Undercover Couple
by Lunasirnape257
Summary: A serial killer is murdering gay couples in Baltimore. The main suspect cannot be arrested... unless Jack could figure something out. Are Hannibal and Will ready to be an undercover couple? How could be their cohabitation under the same roof? Could Buster and Winston get used to that situation? Jack, Beverly, Alana y Abigail will be our witnesses in this adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMERS:** The characters that appear in this story - except those who have never appeared on the tv show or in the novels/films relating to the character of Hannibal Lecter and, therefore, are entirely my invention and property to the development of the plot – don't belong to me. Its creation and rights are owned by Thomas Harris, Bryan Fuller, the NBC Channel and the DeLaurentis company.

* * *

 **I**

 _FBI Academy. Quantico (Virginia)_.

The class was over. Will Graham turned his back on his students and starts gathering his stuff while the young cadets were leaving their seats in droves to leave the class.

The agent closed his briefcase and picked his mobile phone off the table, where he had left moments before starting the class. It was just a few seconds on the phone screen had appeared a message, which he had deliberately ignored to avoid interruption of lesson— now he can read it.

He watched the screen to discover it was a message from Dr. Lecter, and it said:

 _Will:_

 _Jack Crawford has a proposal to make you about the case.  
If you agree, come see me at my house after your lecture and we can talk over dinner._

 _Yours sincerely:  
Hannibal Lecter._

Will frowned instinctively. A proposal for Jack? He was not sure if it was bad or good: the last time his boss has proposed him something, he has ended up killing a man. He was a serial killer, of course. And his death was more than justified, but—

He heard an unmistakable rasp and looked up. Jack Crawford, head of the Behavioral Science Unit of the FBI, was right in front of him: tall, robust as a column with an impeccable navy blue suit and a serious ebony face which inspired authority and confidence in equal parts— except when one looked into her big brown eyes. So if you looked closely, you could see that man was as smart as ruthless. A combination which often bring nothing good.

'Dr. Lecter will just send me a message.' Will announced, keeping the phone in his pocket. 'Is there something you want to tell me, Jack?'

'The truth is yes.' he made a paused, trying to choose his words. 'What do you think about working as an undercover agent?' the man asked, curious.

Will blinked.

'Sorry?'

Jack sighed, abandoning all delicacy:

'Our search in doctor Landon's office has been avail.' he admitted, disappointed. 'We have corroborated his connection to the victims, but we have not found nothing to show he killed them.'

'Maybe he did not.'

'Maybe, but I doubt it: the doctor is the only connection that all victims have in common. And all the evidences we have points to him.'

Will nodded, knowing that his boss was right. Everything they had been able to gather on the case led them to that couples therapy clinic and, specifically, to the psychologist who ran it. All they needed now was a solid evidence to arrest him.

'So your idea is,' he said after a short pause, hefting, 'Dr. Lecter and I pretended to be a couple and go to therapy together, with an alleged serial killer, serving as bait so you can catch him.'

'It sounds worse than it is.' recognized Jack. 'But you know I'd never send you such a mission, if I thought you can be in danger. Lecter and you will be safe at all times, I guarantee: there will be a camouflaged vehicle and a unit of agents watching, wherever you are. We will follow all your steps. You shall bear a discreet listening and GPS to be always contactable—.'

'—And also will have to submit our lives to Big Brother.' he concluded in a comment not without disapproval and sarcasm.

'Do you want to not be so flippant?' Jack asked, annoyed by his tone. He sincerely appreciated Will, but when he adopted that childish rebel attitude he felt like strangling him.

'What you're proposing me is risky.' Will looked at him, seriously. 'Neither Dr. Lecter nor I are able to do this kind of work. The right of you would use a couple of agents who had experience in undercover work—.'

'It will only take two weeks, the Bureau has not given me more time. They want this case closed as soon as posible and if we do not get results soon, we will have to close it and the murderer will free to continue killing.' he snapped irritably. 'Lecter and you are my best asset: both of you are professionals with a track record that you endorse. You have experience in dealing with criminals and serial killers and you have worked in this case from the beginning. What is the problem, Will? Do not you want we catch this guy?'

'Of course I want and you know it.' he replied, offended by such a crude attempt to manipulate him. 'I'm just saying—.'

'I'm catching heat from the Bureau, Will.' Jack grimaced as he stepped forward, quieting the words of his subordinate. 'They are breathing down my neck. Citizens and the LGBT community are pressuring us. And if that were not enough, also I have to deal with the press and vultures as TattleCrime. Have you bothered to read the last article of Freddy Lounds, this morning?

Will pursed his lips at the mere mention of that name: if there was one person in the world he detested, that was Freddy Lounds, the unscrupulous redhead who wrote in a web of crimes and had the audacity to call herself a journalist. The articles from her blog were full of sensationalism, with a truth often twisted and distorted to such point that went beyond lying. There was in them the slightest respect or consideration for the victims. Freddy had the ability to make his blood boil as anyone else in the world—.

'It is necessary to do so.' said Jack, interrupting his thoughts. 'It's our only opportunity, Will.'

The agent sighed, finally giving in, knowing that his boss was right.

'It's okay. Dr. Lecter has accepted.' he muttered, being more a statement than a question.

Jack nodded.

'I gave him all the guarantees of security, just like you. He said he felt safer if you were his partner.'

'He said that?' For two seconds, the same he allowed himself to felt flattered by the comment, a quick smile curled his lips. The next moment he sighed, thinking as he was coming. 'I'm going to dinner.' he announced. 'See you tomorrow in your office?'

'Early. We'll discuss the details of the operation and will choose your alibi. We must invent a romantic story for you both.' he joked grimly.

'Do not worry, we'll take charge of that part, Dr. Lecter and me.'

'As you wish.'

Jack watched his protege go and, after a slight sigh, he also walked to the exit. He left without looking back the small and crowded room, with its huge screen for academic exhibitions and its lonely teacher's desk, which seemed permanently besieged by the closeness of the stands where students took their seats.

The head down figure of the man was lost beyond the double doors out the classroom.

* * *

The chords of a Chopin's Nocturne could be heard in the dining room, brightening the last moments of dinner.

Having tasted some verrines of raspberry carpaccio, beet and cheese – Will had been struck since the moment he had set foot in the dining for those glass cups, within the ingredients formed a tricolor flag, topped with delicious slices of beef carpaccio and a single basil leaf as decoration – and a deer tenderloin dish with mushrooms and chanterelles, sprinkled with a delicious red wine sauce, Will Graham and Dr. Lecter realized dessert sitting opposite. Between them there was a small fountain whose shape reminded of a wide silver chalice, which they were taking one by one the chouquettes.

'They are delicious.' Will said, looking through his fingers the sweet little ball coated with pearled sugar. 'So far had not heard of them.' he looked curious at his host.

'Do not sell in Baltimore. But luckily the ingredients are not difficult to obtain. And I feel weakness for French pastries.' he smiled slightly.

Will smiled back, before quietly engulf his chouquette.

'Would you like what we go shaping our history?' asked the doctor, leaving his napkin on the table while leaning back in his chair, ending his dinner. 'Tomorrow we should present a plausible cover to uncle Jack.'

'Okay.' the young man imitated him. 'Where do we start?'

'Well, certainly you already will know the Bureau will give us new identities for this operation. This afternoon, when I was talking to Jack about that, he let me choose my new name.'

'What name have you chosen?' He asked with interest.

'Robert Visconti.'

'Italian?' he looked at him with some skepticism. 'You don't give the profile.'

'The ethnic profiles are not always based on reality, Will. Although you don't beleive me, my mother was Italian. She descended from the Visconti and the Sforza, notable families in the Italy of his age.'

'I'm not surprised.' he confessed. After nearly a year of knowing him, he has not difficult seeing Dr. Lecter as an aristocrat: he was so cultured and refined as eccentric and somewhat elitist. Like the decor of that room, with its blue walls and elegant wood furniture, whicch lived in harmony with an ominous dark rock wall decorated with plants and some ornaments made with horns, which gave a decidedly menacing appaerance to the fireplace. 'Tell me, what Mr. Visconti do for living?'

'He's a surgeon at Johns Hopkins. And you? If you has the chance, what identity would you choose?'

'I prefer to take what they give me.' he shrugged, thwarting the doctor's curiosity. 'By the way, do you have idea how we met?'

'You tell me.' he proposed.

'Dogs.'

'Dogs?'

'In a park: our pets and we hit it off well. One thing led to other and we started dating.'

'I see. It is a very normal way to mate.'

'How long have we been together?'

'Three years. You moved here two years ago—.'

'Do we live in this house?'

'Do you prefer we live in Wolf Trap? Undoubtedly, one of the two sites is perfect. However, I think it would be more plausible for a Baltimore physician living in the city and not in another state, even if it's a nearby state. Of course, if you prefer otherwise, we can—.'

'No, it's fine. I guess I can ask Alana to take care of the boys. But if you don't mind, I would like to bring here at least one of them. I had thought in Winston, maybe— if you agree, of course.'

'Why not? In this family, we both have dogs.' he declared and was immediately rewarded with a grateful smile from the other man. 'I think it would be cruel to remove you by full of them, Will— and a canine companion would add more credence to our history.'

'I agree.' he nodded, pleased. He appreciated the gesture of the doctor, whose dapper lifestyle seemed clearly incompatible with the presence of a dog. Perhaps with a cat. Or better with some exotic creature to give a refined touch to the decoration, like a reptile in its compartment or goldfishes in a large aquarium. Will's thoughts wandered and ended up landing on another subject, which he did feel slightly uncomfortable to raise it. 'Dr. Lecter— excuse me, but considering the circumstances, I think we should stablish certain limits in this relationship—.'

'I will not make any advancement you do not approve, Will.' he promised. Security in their words and eyes made him feel more relaxed and a little bit embarrassed because he has brought it up. But it was necessary. 'I do not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. In fact, I am glad you have accepted to carry out this mission with me, because that indicates we trust each other and that's just what I want.'

'Obviously I trust you, doctor. Otherwise, I would never have allowed you to enter my house during my absence, much less approach to my dogs.'

'I am glad to know that.' he smiled. 'I've been thinking about that limits you've proposed. During the investigation, we have deduced that the murderer is attracted to happy couples, who he kills a cause of envy: those couples have something he craves and cannot get, so he responds with violence. And it is almost certain that he stalks the victims to study their routines and choose the best moment to attack them. Well, apart from all that,' he focused, 'we can guess that these couples are not entirely happy, because they are coming to therapy. It's obvious that there is a problem in their relationship which separates them in some way.'

'Where are you getting at?' He frowned slightly.

Lecter stuck his brown eyes on him.

'We are a couple in love, Will, but we are estranged. Our displays of affection are occasional and it has been weeks we do not share bed.'

'So— I sleep in the guest room?'

'It would be the most logical. Unless you prefer the living room sofa. Both are equally comfortable.'

'What is supposed to be the problem in our relationship?' he wanted to know, curious.

'Wear, insecurity, lack of trust— a bad combination. We've been together for three years and my profession does not allow us to share too many moments together. Besides, I have my faults,' he added, 'I'm a little arrogant, conceited and I tend to be cold.'

'And I feel unsure,' said Will, 'Because I do not know if you love me as before.'

'Exactly.'

'Also—,' he hesitated a moment before spoke: 'I'm bisexual and this is my first relationship with a man.'

'A serious relationship.' stressed the psychiatrist. 'The rift between us, and the presence of an old friend of yours, are doing you rethink things: your relationship with Alana is narrowing, separating you from me.'

'Alana?' Will asked, surprised by the sudden inclusion of psychologist in its history.

'I suspect you both are cheating on me, or at least you're thinking about do it, so we have argued to the point we've end up sleeping apart—.'

'Excuse me, Dr. Lecter.' he stopped him. 'Your idea is great, but I do not think we should put Alana in this.'

'Calm down. She not set foot in the office and mention his name not put her in danger.'

'If you say it.' he said, trying to ease his concern. Both were silent for several minutes, without much more to say, and after a moment, Will glanced at his watch. 'Excuse me, doctor, but I think I should leave now. It has become a little late and I still have an hour road to Wolf Trap.'

Lecter nodded, understanding, and rose from the table to accompany him to the door.

'Dinner was delicious. ' he declared at the Doorstep. 'Thanks for the invitation.'

'No need to give them. You knows it's always a pleasure to have you at my table. Tomorrow we will meet at Jack's office.' he said. 'Maybe you could carry your stuff and the dogs there. I have to provide consultations, so I'd like to go back as soon as we finalized the reunion.'

'Of course. I could take care of an appointment with Landon: I will try as soon as we receive possible.'

'Jack probably has taken charge of that yet.' braved the doctor.

'Yes, it is possible.' he granted, knowing his friend. 'Anyway. Good evening, Dr. Lecter. See you tomorrow.'

'Goodbye, Will.'

He watched him go. He closed the door behind him when the agent got into his car, which had parked across the street.

Will Graham went away in the middle of the night, thinking about the work that awaited them.

It would be two interesting weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

That morning, Dr. Lecter arrived on time to his appointment at FBI headquarters in Baltimore.

He entered the elevator dressed in an elegant tan suit and came up direct to the last floor, where the unit was housed. When the elevator doors opened he could distinguish Will and Alana in the distance. There were talking standing next to a large window, giving their back on him: the young man with his unruly brown hair, dressed in jeans and jacket. The woman with her lank black hair collected in a bun, wearing a navy suit and high heels. Around of the couple there were several bags - including a large black, which undoubtedly contained Will's stuff - and no less than seven dogs, which formed at the foot of both a diverse amalgam of breeds, colors and sizes.

'Good morning.' he greeted to reach them. They both turned to wave back and Hannibal stared at the doctor - Have you already taken charge of your protégés?' he ask, smiling as he watched the dogs, whose straps the psychologist was holding in her hand.

'Officially, yes.' she nodded. 'Will called me last night to ask me the favor.' her beautiful face suddenly turned serious and she looked at both men concerned. 'Are you sure of what you are going to do? I think Jack should reconsider—.'

'It's too late for that.' said Will. 'But you don't have to worry, we'll be safe.'

'Thanks for the comfort, but I can not help it. I appreciate you both and what Jack Crawford aims is dangerous: he's using you as bait, putting you in the spotlight of a murderer who tears out his victims' hearts.'

'Nothing to which we are not accustomed.' said Hannibal, always rational. 'We know to spare Jack tactics and we often deal with such criminals.'

'But never ye had to offer in one tray.' she pursed her lips and the gesture made her more beautiful if possible. 'There are staff trained for this work in the FBI—.'

'It will only take two weeks.' calmed Will, who did not want her worried. 'try close the case or at least gain time to resolve. We cannot let a murderer loose, Alana. No, when he's killing four people per month.'

The woman sighed, resigned.

'I know and I understand that, but I disagree. Please, promise me you shall observe. I wouldn't like to see something bad happens to either of you.'

'Don't worry. Will and I will protect each other.'

'Nothing bad will happen, do not worry.'

The psychologist looked at them for a moment and then nodded, satisfied. After a moment, the attention of Dr. Lecter turned to dogs, whose straps Will was holding: Winston, with its beautiful tan coat, sat on the right of his master as a impassive guardian. And the other side there was a small white specimen with brown spots, it looks like a terrier and it was bitting its own leg.

'Is this going to be my new partner?' He asked, curious.

Will nodded, watching as the psychiatrist dug one knee and offered the dog a goody, which had just magically out of his jacket pocket. The animal reacted, smelling the cookie and devouring it immediately. When finished, he threw a languid look at the man and put his little paw on human's right knee. The message was clear and Hannibal's smile before responding to the dog's demand was sincere.

'His name is Buster.' Will informed him, smiling back as he watched the smooth running of that first contact. 'I chose him thinking of you: he is small and well educated. He did not mess your house or bite your belongings and he doesn't bark too much.

'It's perfect.' the doctor approved, looking satisfied. 'Thanks, Will.'

'You're welcome. It seems that he likes you.'

'Sometimes, I have that effect.' he joked, standing as he extended his hand open to his companion. 'Can I?'

Will handed him the leash, as they watched appear Jack Crawford in the distance, dressed in a brown suit that certainly not favored him too much.

'Good morning.' he greeted to meet them. 'Glad to see you're already here. Dr. Bloom.'

'Jack.' she turned to bid farewell to Hannibal and Will. 'I must go. I have to take the boys home.'

'Remember to let Orryn out every two hours. His bladder, you know' said Will. 'And give him his medications with foods. And if anything happens, you call me, okay?'

'Do not worry, I will.'

The woman left, taking dogs and bags with her. The three men watched her for a moment, until Jack turned to his colleagues and in doing so noticed the two dogs that have been left behind. Certainly, they offered a curious picture next to their humans: Winston's head almost touched Will's thigh, being the dog sitting on his haunches. And the small size of Buster contrasted comically with 1.83 cm tall Dr. Lecter.

'Do these dogs also come to the meeting?' He asked, pointing at them skeptically.

'Is there any reason to let them out?' Will asked, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses on the bridge of the nose, in a clearly defensive gesture.

'I do not think they'll bother us, Jack.' Hannibal supported him, trying to hide an amused smile  
at the reaction of his friend. 'They are part of our cover.'

'Okay.' the head of unit sighed. Then he held out his arm to point out an opened door to the left, opposite the large window. 'Come in, please.'

Will picked up his bags, which contained his belongings and the dogs', and together Hannibal followed Jack through the door to the inside of an office. It was a spacious room but not too large, and the fact it was occupied by six people and two dogs made it seem especially small. There was a large brown leather sofa beside the door, to the right was the only front window, a desk and a wooden shelf. The shelf was next to a white board on a tripod and stood beside them was Beverly Katz, in the company of two unknown FBI agents, all in civilian clothes. The young Asian woman was wearing jeans and a gray sweater and the two officers wore tailored suit, neatly combed brown hair and bright eyes.

Jack immediately went to the desk where he leaned to give the face its subordinates, while Hannibal and Will occupied the sofa with the dogs: Winston immediately lay at the feet of his master, next to the bags Will had just left in the ground and Buster jumped up to Lecter's lap and the doctor saw him fall into a fulminant sleep, as soon as the animal was curled up in the warmth of his legs.

'Well.' began Jack. 'All of us here know the objective and characteristics of this mission, so I'll cut to the chase and try to be brief, because time is running against us. First of all, these are agents Davies and Harper.' he pointing them out one by one. 'They and Miss Katz will be responsible for the surveillance tasks. Miss Katz will assist them because of her technological knowledge about the equipment which we'll work with.'

'I did not know you were an expert in technology besides a forensic scientist, Beverly.' Will said, looking interested.

'In this job you will be prepared for everything.' she replied with a half smile.

'The surveillance team will have two camouflaged vehicles.' Jack continued after a pause, addressing Will and Hannibal. 'You'll be located at all times through GPS in your phones and we'll provide you with bugged, which also have installed a tracking software. I strongly ask you always bear both devices above and activated, okay? Any Question? - there were none, so the head of unit continued - From the moment you leave through that door, Dr. Hannibal Lecter and agent Will Graham will be gone. These will be your new identities - he said, extending his right hand to pick up two separate passports on the table and immediately afterwards handing one to each man – Check it is all right with them, before we continue – he told them.

Hannibal and Will observed their documents. The finish was so real, that none of them would have dared to say they were false. They found no fault, even when they exchanged their passports to pass information to another.

'H is for Hannibal?' Will inquired curious, as the name printed on the card identity of the doctor had caught his attention. 'You has retained your name.'

'Just as added.' he nodded. 'I thought it might be useful, just in case a confusion occurred: if one of us is wrong to say my name, that will get us out of trouble and avoid suspicions that may expose our deception.'

'Good thinking.' he praised him. 'It'll always be better than be called Graham Williamson. Who came up with the name, anyway?' He looked around.

'It was Mr. Crawford, Mr. Graham.' said agent Harper. 'It's fortunate that your surname is also a name.'

'It has its advantages, I suppose.' he turned to Jack. 'Was it also your idea turn me into a canine psychologist?'

'That's a job made for you.' said Beverly, giggly.

'I would not have found any better.' Lecter supported her, and both earned a look which pretended to be from irritation, although for Will his new profession was very attractive, actually— much more than teach Criminology in the Academy.

'You told me once you was interested in dog's psychology.' his boss explained, shrugging. 'And I know you have contacts in city shelters, so it will help us to maintain your cover, especially when our killer'll decide to stalk you.'

'It is a good idea.' Lecter said.

'Not bad.' Will replied.

'Doctor, I trust you would have be able to talk to his friend to address your patients to Johns Hopkins while this operation is working.' Jack said.

'Do not worry, it's all settled.'

'Great. Now, we'd better move on to the last point of the day: eavesdropping.' he turned to the board. 'Agent Davies, you're in charge of monitoring equipment. Would you mind to give us a practical lesson?'

'Of course.' the agent came to the table and picked up a small black box. Then opened it to display its contents to Will and Hannibal - This is the bugged we're going to use. As you can see, at first glance it looks like a small earplug. It is placed in inside the ear and it is very difficult for someone notes its presence, unless they look closely. It is easy to remove and put in. At the back – he extracted a black bugged and turned it over to show them well - you have a button to activate or deactivate the device. They should be always on, even if you get them rid off, okay? It is important, because if we lose the connection with you, we will not be able to intervene in case you are in danger and that would be fatal to both sides.' the two men nodded, understanding. Agent Davies gave them each their bugged – Now put it in and going to test if they work.'

Will and Hannibal obeyed. They uttered some simple phrases that all could hear reproduced clearly in a connected speaker on the table and Beverly subsequently conducted another test to make sure that the sound was properly recorded.

'It's great.' said Hannibal, admired. 'How much distance it covers?'

'A kilometer or so.' replied agent Davies. 'Obviously, we will never be as far from you during operation.'

'That system is very sophisticated.' Will said and looked directly at Jack. 'Have you had to ask many favors to get it?'

'A few,' his boss declared, 'But it will worth it, if they give us the evidence we need. Also, I have been assured they are the best on the market and apparently there is. Saying this, is there any more questions?' He asked, his dark gaze wandering around the office. 'Have anyone additional queries to solve or something else to add, before officially starting the mission?'

'When we will meet Landon?' Will wanted to know, interested. 'Is the Bureau going to make an appointment for us or should we do it on our own?'

'We have already seen to that.' Jack said. 'Your appointment is scheduled for this afternoon at five, requested on behalf of Dr. Robert Visconti.'

'You have not lost time.' Lecter said, approvingly.

'No time to waste, doctor. Well, gentlemen, that's all.' he dismissed after a moment. 'Let everyone take his place and nobody loses contact. For any emergency, you know my phone. Do your work and hope that this mission has success.'

The meeting was closed and the agents were spilling out of the office. Beverly soon disappeared along with his two companions to take the elevator, and Hannibal and Will had just a few minutes to exchange the latest sentences with Jack before leaving.

Their last vision was the serious face of his boss as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

Doctor Isaac Landon's office was not far from the city center, in one of many side streets, at the bottom of a red brick Victorian building.

Will and Hannibal came punctual and prepared for their appointment and they waited about minutes in the small waiting room - with its dark parquet floors and its walls painted in a nice shade of green - until the psychologist received them.

The desk clerk, a young man in his twenties with dark hair and eyes, made them into the office where Landon was waiting for them.

The doctor was a slender man in his early forthies. He wore jeans and a red jersey, a profuse mane of curly brown hair covering his head, framing a big blue eyes. His nose was prominent and he has an easy smile.

'Welcome.' he greeted, shaking their hands. Then he pointed to the chairs that were in front of his desk. 'Have a seat, please.' while his patients obeyed, he takes a seat behind the table without losing his genuine smile. 'I'm Dr. Landon, I'll be your therapist. Can I call you by name? Who is Robert and who is Graham?' He asked, after they nodded to consent.

'I'm Robert and he's— well, actually everyone calls him Will.' he claimed - For his surname. I remember never called him Graham.'

'Perfect.' the doctor nodded.

'I neither call him Robert.' said Will. 'We are accustomed to using his middle name: Hannibal.'

'A name with personality.' he praised and after a brief pause, added. 'Well, now we have broken the ice, I would like to explain you before beginning what will be the dynamics of the sessions: usually there were a minimum of two sessions per month, although the number actually depends of the patient's need. The first session is always a touchdown: I will make you some questions and I would like you to respond them with the complete sincerity, because this way I could get a general idea of your situation and we're going to structure your therapy based on this, do you agree?'

'Yes.'

'Yes.'

'Okay, let's start: Hannibal, tell me, how long have you been together, you and Will?'

'About three years. We have been living together for two.'

'How did you meet?'

'In the park, with Winston and Buster.'

'Are they friends of yours?' He asked, curious.

'They are our dogs.' Will said, with a smile. 'Winston is mine and Buster is Hannibal's. One day we took them a walk, we meet at the park and—.'

'I understand.' the doctor smiled. 'Dogs can be great matchmakers.'

'Yes, they can be.'

'Will work in several animal shelters in the city.' said Hannibal. 'He is a canine psychologist.'

'Seriously?' Landon looked interested. 'I find it a fascinating profession.'

'Thank you.'

'And what do you do, Hannibal?' he turned to face him.

'I'm a surgeon. I work at Johns Hopkins.'

'Great job. I have understood it demand long hours.'

'So much.' he nodded. 'But I love it.'

'Is that why you almost do not stop at home?' Will attacked, using an ironic tone that attracted the Psychologist immediate attention.

'Will? Does it bother you Hannibal work long hours?'

'What do you think?' He pursed his lips with irritation. 'He spends all day in the hospital and not even he is at home when I arrive for dinner. I would like us to do things together, but he never has time.' he snorted, frustrated. 'Sometimes I feel as if I still lived alone.'

Hearing him, his companion looked annoyed.

'We have already talked about this a million times, Will: I do what I can. I have to work, so I cannot give you twenty four hours a day.'

'Who is asking you that?' He faced him. 'I work too, you know? And what I like is to get home at night and don't having to do everything alone. Before at least we get the dogs out together and we could talk while walking, but not anymore. Hannibal, I am starting to think that for you I'm just like one more furniture in the house.'

'That is not true—.'

'Don't dare you deny it.' he passed with eyes. 'You never pay attention to anything other than not it's your damn job.'

'That work is what I am,' he replied, angry, 'and I was surgeon when we met, so I do not know why you complain so much. In addition, you have no right to reproach me anything after what Alana—.'

'I've said you a thousand times I have nothing with Alana!'

'Gentlemen, please.' Landon cut the discussion before they were of the hands - Calm down and go to parties: who is Alana?'

'A friend.' said Will, writhing angrily in his seat. 'We met at University. We've been friends for years and Hannibal thinks we—.' he could not continue and snorted, indignant.

'Okay.' the psychologist nodded, sympathetic. 'Alana is your friend and you, Hannibal, distrusts of that relationship.'

'Of course I distrust - he admitted and faced the angry look in his partner's eyes. 'They were very close in the past and now that things are going wrong between us, she is back and—.'

'Nothing has happened between us, how many times I must tell you? Why would I cheat on you?'

'I do not know, maybe because you have a foot in each sidewalk?' the young man looked at him, shocked and offended. 'I always try to give you the best, Will, but you're never happy.' he upbraided. 'You spend so more time with her and the last time we discussed the issue, you left our bedroom and it has been weeks you have not returned.'

'Because I cannot stand it!' He said. 'I cannot stand you look at me as if I had committed a crime. We cannot even talk without fighting, Hannibal. And in relation to me and Alana sharing too much time— what did you expect? She understands me and is there for me when I need it, while you spent all day in the hospital and I hardly san see you. I do not know if you love me or—.'

'What the hell you think we are doing here, then? Have we not come, by mutual agreement, to treat to solve this? Is not this a proof that I care about our relationship?'

'It shows that you both care.' interrupted Landon, seeing as both were remain silent, facing each other. He looked at them seriously. 'Gentlemen, the fact that you have decided come here is very important. It means there you are making a real effort to save your relationship.'

'At this point, I do not know if it worth it.' said Will, dejectedly.

'Thinking like that—.' Hannibal complained, earning instead a perverse look by the young.

'Please. Trust me. Your problem is more common than you might think: all relationships suffer wear and the third year is usually the most critical: It is a turning point in many relationships, when couples tend to make important decisions as married, having children, moving house—.'

'We have no plan to do anything like that.' Will said sullenly.

'They were only examples.' claimed the psychologist. 'What I am trying to say is that there is a wear in your relationship that has been enlarged and has led in turn several insecurities and a lack of communication between you both: Will, your relationship with Alana; Hannibal, your demanding job; and the fact that you spent much time arguing than sharing good moments together— it all adds up and we must find a remedy, if you don't want to finish destroying your relationship.'

'What can we do, doctor?' Hannibal asked, looking hopeful.

'For now, you have to sign a truce inmediatly: no more recriminations or fights. Please, you must try. I'd like you give each other a vote of confidence and try to put aside everything what poisons or tight your relationship. Share time together, forge good times and dedicate hours to yourselves, because I think that's what you both are demanding, actually.'

'You're right.' supported Will. He exchanged a brief look with Lecter, just seconds before the two again unto look away.

'I'll give you an appointment within three days.' said Landon. 'At the same time, okay? Justin, my assistant, will call you to confirm it and will send you the form for you to fill with your data: it is a formality, for our file. You can bring it with you on our next meeting. Then, we will see if there have been any positive change in their situation.' they both nodded, unsmiling. Psychologist's face appeared a conciliatory smile. 'Before you leave, I would like you performed a little exercise which often helps in these cases.'

'You say.' Will granted.

'I want you to look face to face and everyone says aloud what he likes the other.'

The two men crossed eyes. It was a simple exercise, but it took them several seconds to decide make it happen. Finally, it was Hannibal who spoke first, clearing his throat:

'What I like most about Will is that he is unique.' he said, looking into his partner eyes. 'He has a great potential he often cannot see: he doesn't know how much he is worth or how tremendously special he is. I've found in him someone who can understand me and accept me as I am, just how I can understand and accept him as he is. The first time I saw him I knew he would mark one difference. I trust him— and usually I am not of those who trust.' he excused himself, sketching a smile. Will did not take his eyes off him. 'However, I think we could share all. And I would love it to be so: it is what I really want.'

There was silence. He will cleared his throat.

'I—.' he was overwhelmed. The doctor's words had caught him by surprise, because although they had planned together a small script at home for the visit to the therapist, that part had has been completely improvised— and sincere. He had seen the naked truth in the eyes of the psychiatrist as he spoke. No doubt his partner must have thought that the best way to face that little challenge was the simplest: tell the truth. And now the ball was in his field, hoping he threw it back. He would have to be involved to keep up. 'I feel the same.' he confessed. 'I mean— I trust Hannibal too and I think he is a special person because— honestly, I think I've never met anyone like him: he makes me feel good and comfortable with myself. He is very intelligent, very honest, and has a particular point of view about life. Some might consider him eccentric or even cold, sometimes, but I look at him and I see a lonely man with an average intelligence and an immense love for everything that has to do with art, food—.' he paused, looking at Lecter's brown eyes that never left his. 'Hannibal is able to see the simplicity and the sublime in things and he knows how to transform them. He can save a life without breaking a sweat and can turn a handful of minced meat into a work of art. His cuisine, especially— all that commitment and dedication he puts on it— maybe it can be flashy, but Hannibal is an artist and personally I admire the passion he puts into each of his dishes.'

'Okay.' Landon nodded, smiling contentedly at the result. 'You have done great, Sirs. I think that's all for today.' he stood. 'I'll see you on Friday, at the same time.'

After a short time, Hannibal and Will got up and shook hands with the psychologist to goodbye. He accompanied them politely to reception and they saw him cross some words with the receptionist, as they went out the door.

'What do you think?' Will asked, putting his sealtbelt once they got into Lecter's car. 'Have we caught his attention?'

'I hope so. And I have to thank you, Will.' he said, while he starts the engine. 'I assure you I've rarely been flattered so much.'

'Ditto.' he smiled, turning his gaze to the window. 'You go out well the exercise. But if you want me to continue flattering you, you will have to cook more often.' he joked.

He could not see the smile that formed on Hannibal's lips.

'That wont be a problem.' he assured him, joining the traffic on the avenue.

The Bentley was finally lost among the other vehicles on its way home. While driving, the

Doctor reviewing recipes in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

In middle of the night, all was quiet and calm.

Hannibal Lecter was in his bedroom, in the dark, lying in his bed. The sheets covered him to the chest and his brown eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the room. Usually he was a light sleeper, and after waking up without a reason a half hour ago, he still waited for Morfeo embrace him again.

He pass the time thinking about the case— and Will: when Jack Crawford came to him days ago and asked for him to join his undercover operation, he had accepted unceremoniously because he had seen his chance clear. He had been wanting to close ties with Will for a while, because he had decided make the young man his friend. And it was not just a whim or a selfish desire, the FBI agent had rightfully won his admiration and affection. It had taken him only a few months and especially after what happened with Tobias, he had proven him beyond any doubt he could not pass up the opportunity. Will was important to him, the last thing he wanted in life was to lose him. Moreover, with time he had come to appreciate that his partner had all the necessary qualities to become his equal. He saw a clear potential and a hidden nature in Will Graham waiting to be released, revealed, and of course he wanted to lead him in the right direction so that he could be himself. His greatest desire at that time was closer and strengthen ties between they both— and pretending to be a couple for two weeks - with all that entailed - was a way as good as any other to do so.

Judging by recent events, he could say with satisfaction they was making progress in his goal: Will had moved to his house and he had managed to convince the boy to be on familiar terms with him, changing the habitual and respectful _Dr. Lecter_ he had get used to for a _Hannibal_ that sounded even more enjoyable in his ears. Besides, there was all that things his partner had said about him that afternoon in Landon's office. Will could not get an idea of how his words had affected him: to hear him say he admired the passion of his cooking gave him the same feeling that contemplate the Primavera by Botticelli. The picture had a special and very loved place in his mind palace and he could spend hours watching it, spellbound by its magnificence and beauty, enjoying the plenitude he felt everytime he beholded it.

Often, Will made him feel the same way. Often his feelings for him were intense, until point that he had begun to question them. Would it be possible—?

He was suddenly distracted by the sound of a door opening on the corridor. He heard it clearly, along with the sound of bare feet on the carpet— and immediately after few quick steps which indicate a walker over two legs. Will could not sleep and had left his room, maybe to go to the bathroom or the kitchen? Winston acomppained him, Was there something wrong with the dog—?

Unexpectedly, a blow deaf. Someone had stumbled, almost certainly with the banister.

Curiosity pricked him deep, so he threw back the covers and went to see, because he began to think that maybe it were not a case of lack of sleep. What if Will was having one of his sleepwalking episodes? He could have simply got up, only he knew for what purpose, and would wander around the house sleepwalker in the company of Winston.

He left the room without bothering to put on slippers and arrived in time to see the young man going downstairs, closely followed by his faithful friend. He watched from the railing and confirmed his suspicions when he saw Will in pajama pants and shirt, trying unsuccessfully to open the front door and turning the knob by hand, despite being clear the door was locked: he had closed the entire house precisely to prevent his partner from leaving the house and go who knows where in the middle of an unexpected crisis.

'Will.' he called him softly, as he coming downstairs. He stopped halfway and saw as his friend stayed very still, probably for having recognized his voice, and then saw him lower the arm and apparently give up his attempts to leave the house. 'Will, where you go?' He asked, curious.

'Home.' his voice sounded clear, although disconnected. His body was there, but his mind was far away.

'Now you're at home.' he said, resuming its descent to stand beside him.

'No.' he shook his head stubbornly. 'My dogs. I cannot find my dogs, where are they?'

Hannibal could not help a smile. Why he was not surprised for hsi friend's concern? The young man surely miss his canine family and his subconscious - perhaps linked to fever – had made him out to look for them.

'Winston is right next to you. If you extend your hand, you will be able to touch him.'

Will obeyed. His fingers found quickly the soft fur and brushed it with affection. When the palm of his hand touch Winston's head, the dog licked it with unconditional love and that gesture brought a smile to Will. His face lit up like a kid at Christmas and Hannibal felt deeper inside a twinge of something that was unfamiliar to him.

'Let me take you to bed.' he asked, laying a hand gently on his shoulder for not wake him up. Will stood still, staring into space with open eyes, and when Hannibal put his hand on his forehead to take his temperature, he pressed it instinctively against the palm. 'You have a little fever.' confirmed the doctor. 'Come with me. Let's go upstairs, you need to rest.'

Will got carried away. They three climbed the stairs and crossed the hall to the guest room, where the boy and his dog slept. The room was dark, but they knew well the distribution so had no trouble getting to bed. Hannibal then asked Will to lie down and he did it without question, so docile he was in his state.

Right next to the bed was a large dog bed, but instead of occupy it as would have been the usual, Winston jumped to his master's bed and curled up next to him: his intentions were clearly protective, so Hannibal let him do instead of forcing him down to not get the sheets dirty, which he would have done under other circumstances.

'Do not get used to it.' he warned the dog, and in response the animal rested his jaw on Will's knee and ignored him completely.

Hannibal ignored him in turn and focused in tuck Will up. He did it carefully, wrapping sheets around his body, as it has been many years since he has done for anyone. In fact, doing it brought his head an unexpected memory: a rounded childish face; long fair hair; a candid smile and a goodnight kiss on his cheek that awoke his devotion; the clean smell of a little girl who, like Will, was equally vulnerable—  
Suddenly, the young man rolled over in his sleep. Without warning, he caught the psychiatrist by surprise and the move trapped the doctor's arm under his body. Hannibal had to put his free hand on the mattress to avoid falling on Will and for a moment he stood there, dumbfounded.

He felt a slight warmth on his cheeks and that made him react: he carefully removed his arm from under his companion and turned away from the bed to let him rest.

It was then when he noticed something dark looking at the window.

He approached cautiously to get a closer look. He peered up and down the street and he could see the figure clad in black who walked away as he saw him, although only seconds before he had been standing there, staring at his window.

A smile broke on the psychiatrist's lips. He knew it could not be a coincidence. No, at such an hour. It was surely a sign of their success: they had caught the attention of his friend and his arguments had convinced him he should stop by there to keep a glance. He knew he would come back other times, until the time came when everything was prepared.

His smile widened. It was open season. The game had just begun.

* * *

A quiet street. A building like any other. A dark apartment.

He closed the door behind him and left the keys as always in a small bowl on the tiny hall. He took off the hat and the scarf which hid his features and protected him from the cold of the night and hung the coat on the clothes rack, next to the door.

He instinctively ran a hand through his hair as he lit a light and approached the open kitchen which presided the spacious living room in the apartment.

Surveillance always made him hungry, so he opened the refrigerator and took out a tray with the remains os the lasagna he had dined before leaving. The tray was ovenproof, so he got it into the oven and he stood looking through the glass door as heated.

That night he had spent several hours watching, like an invisible shadow, circling around the house and peering through the windows of the ground floor. It was an impressive building, no doubt: classical architecture, with light brick facade, typical among the upper classes. A century-old house, inherited and maintained with the good doctor's salary and tastefully decorated. It was distributed in the east wing in a nice room and a toilet and in the west in an elegant living room with fireplace, which communicated by a double doors to the dining room and this through a large arch with the great kitchen.

 _One of them is an amateur chef_ – he had thought to see it - _Nobody has such a well-equipped kitchen in his house, if he is not a true food lover. I bet whoever is a real gourmet. Will be the mature doctor or the young dogs psychologist?_

It would be interesting to find out— but for now what he had called his attention was the patio. It seemed to be the best way to access the property. It was located in the back and was suitably fenced. He has been barely able to glimpse a little bit of cement and a fragment of a manicured lawn. He hasn't dared to climb the fence or jump it, for fear of attracting unwanted attention. He knew the couple had two dogs and perhaps the yard was his place in the house— being that way, It was better to prevented.

The next time he'll visit the house, it would be to sneak into it and go inside. He must know better the couple and see how they lived: that was the next step of his plan.

He had chosen them as a target that very morning, after meeting them in the office and be witness of their discussion. Hearing them had made him feel angry. It was always the same. They were all cut from the same pattern, with their complaints and accusations and whining: _You do not pay enough attention to me! You're cheating on me! You don't love me anymore!_ But deeper inside they loved each other. After going through therapy they often became a jumble of hugs, kisses and happy moments.

Hypocrites! What they had done to earn that happiness? Did they deserved it, when so many in the world could not even dream with achieve it? No, of course not. Those men enjoyed a happiness that was not intended for them. And it was unfair. But for that he was there, to put things in place. He intended to do with these as with others. He would monitor them closely and when the time came—

The oven's clock distracted him, waking him up to reality. The lasagna was ready. He used a dishcloth to take it out the oven and then closed it. He took a fork from the cutlery drawer and went to sit on the couch, where tasted his second dinner with parsimony, bite by bite, as he sank back into his thoughts.

As the food was disappearing from the tray, the second phase of his plan was taking shape in his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

It was a couple of days. That morning, sunlight illuminated the kitchen when Will came down to breakfast.

He stopped in the doorway, staring for a few seconds to Lecter: the psychiatrist wore an elegant silk dressing gown over a crisp white shirt and black cotton pants, a homespun style he regarded as eccentric as staff. His friend was standing, making coffee in an elegant machine that, like many objects in that house, seemed to come from some past century or some exquisite gourmet shop.

Next to Hannibal there were two separate dishes filled with fried bacon and scrambled eggs and beyond, on the nearby kitchen table, there had been placed a pitcher fulled of orange juice and accompanied by two tall glasses.

'Good morning.' he greeted with a half smile, while responding to the warm welcome which Buster and Winston were giving him.

Barking dogs - and the recognizable smell of his aftershave - made Dr. Lecter raises his head to greet him.

'Good morning.' he stared his friend. The casual look of the young man in jeans and jacket, remained that of always. Though his face was pale and the doctor could see small drops of sweat beading his temples. 'Are you okay?' He asked, worried. 'You're pouting.'

'Bit of a headache.' Will admitted, grimacing as he put aside the dogs and approached him. 'Can I have a cup?' he ask.

'Of course.' Hannibal served it to him. After the first few sips, when it was clear that he felt better, Lecter reached out his hand to take the temperature of his partner and this, by fatigue or by custom, let him do it without protest. 'You have a little fever.' confirmed. 'There are aspirin in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, you should take a pair before leaving.'

'Yes, Daddy.' he joked, going to sit at the table to take his coffee in peace.

The psychiatrist looked at him with raised eyebrows for a second and immediately a secret smile curved his lips, as he finished his coffee and picked up both dishes to bring them to the table. Normally he despised rudeness and impertinence, but in Will's case he was willing to make an exception because he understood that in his friend that were not a character trait but a crude and childish defense mechanism— nor he could deny that the rebellious spirit was one of the most appreciated qualities of Will.

'I'm glad you have such a good mood in the mornings.' he smiled, placing both plates one in front of Will and the other in front of himself.

'What else can I do?' He shrugged. With the fork took the first snacks, silent. Hannibal did the same, until he noticed the young man was staring at him. 'Last night I went back to sleepwalking, right?' He asked with a faint trace of guilt in his voice.

'You must not worry about that.' Hannibal reassured him, seeing that his silence made Will sigh with disgust. 'At least this time you don't try to scape from the house.'

'What did I do?' He wanted to know, looking unsure.

'Well— I found you right here. It was around two o'clock in the morning and you were serving food to the dogs.

'Oh, God.' he sighed.

'Winston seemed too confused.' Hannibal said, amused.

'And Buster?'

'Buster did not wake up.' he attacked the bacon with a fork to grab a bite, while look briefly at the animal, which ate completely unconcerned in the company of his partner. 'He is a heavy sleeper.'

'Unlike his new master, whose dream I appreciate was so light.'

'There is nothing to thank.' he smiled slightly. 'We are friends. And now it is assumed we are couple too, which accredits me, I imagine, to take care of you— even if such care include occasionally take you back to bed when you wake up sleepwalking in the small hours.'

'One day I'll compensate you for all the sacrifices you do for me.' he said and Hannibal just looked down at his plate. 'I'm going to the shelter.' announced Will, leaving his empty cup on the table and the dish almost intact, to the chagrin of the psychiatrist. He got up and went looking for the dogs, which usually carried with him so that they wouldn't spend all morning at home alone. 'Come on, guys, Let's go.'

'Do not forget the aspirin.' he reminded him. 'And try to eat more at lunch or you may have passed out before the end of the day.'

'Don't worry, I'll be a good boy. See you tonight.'

'I'll see you at dinner.'

Will disappeared into the dining room followed by the dogs and less than a minute later, the psychiatrist heard opening and closing the front door. The house remained silent. Hannibal took a long sip of his juice, trying to shake the feeling of discomfort he felt at the suddenly loneliness.

* * *

The day passed without incidents. The last appointment of Dr. Lecter had been canceled, so the psychiatrist returned home an hour earlier than planned, at six o'clock. All was quiet and peaceful in the house, but just across the threshold he noticed something different. A smell he recognized - he had smelled it days before the doctor's Landon - but it never had passed through his house. The woodsy scent of male colony brought a slight smile to his face.

So his friend had managed to enter. And it had only taken him a couple of days.

Still he remain in the house? No, judging by the cadence of smell: it was at least an hour he was gone. Would he have left them some souvenir? It was a matter of finding out.

He moved through the house, following the scent. His trail led him upstairs to the second floor. As he walked up the steps, a grimace was drawning in the face: he would consider it quite rude of his friend if he has dared to violate the privacy of his bedroom or Will's. Was there a possibility he had come to the second floor just to go to the bathroom? He doubted it. There was a toilet on the ground floor.

He went over the rooms one by one, noting with relief that there was no trace of his friend in them. However, his scent remained in the hall. He stopped guided by the smell in front of a nice watch that decorated the wall of the corridor, a few meters from the door of the guest room. It was an unique piece of craftsmanship: carved in the finnest oak wood in the late nineteenth century and acquired in France by his family long time ago. At the bottom of the clock, in relief, its owner had made carve the efigie of a boar which was the Lecter family's emblem from the dawn of history. And just in the eye of the creature, Hannibal caught a flash that had never been there before.

He knew that clock since his childhood. He had spent endless hours watching it, because he loved it. It was one of his favorite pieces among the antiquities owned by his family. For that reason he knew every single detail, even the smallest, even those who went unnoticed in the eyes of others. There was something new in it, he has no doubt. He reached out his hand and touch the clock with love, just for a moment, and immediately pulled back and turned his steps toward staircase, descending it with parsimony. As he did it, he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and startted sending a message to Jack:

 _He has been at home_ – he wrote - _He has left us a camera as a gift_.

He did not have to wait long before the FBI agent answered him:

 _What kind of camera?  
_

 _Of those which can be skillfully hide inside a family heirloom._

A brief pause:

 _Have he left you more gifts?  
_

 _No, although I thought imprudent to check. If our friend has eyes in my house, I think the most sensible thing is let him think he has the control. The opposite could alert him. Would it be possible for the FBI to send someone to make a discreet inquiry? If more cameras has been installed, I think Will and I should know it.  
_

 _Of course. Beverly will made you a visit tonight.  
_

 _Great. She could stay for dinner. It will be a pleasure for us to have her as a guest.  
_

 _I begin to feel envious of her.  
_

 _You know there's always a seat for you at my table, Jack.  
_

 _I know, and one of these days I'll take your word. I miss your food, doctor. But now I must take charge of our business. I must say goodbye._

 _Goodbye, Jack.  
_

 _Goodbye, Dr. Lecter._

The psychiatrist hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He reached the lobby and walked straight toward the kitchen, where he left his jacket hanging on a coat rack and put on the apron. It is missing just one hour Will to come home with the dogs and that night they would have a guest for dinner.

He opened the refrigerator and meticulously observed its content.

What would be the most suitable dish for the occasion?

* * *

If someone entered in the apartment's kitchen and went downstairs, he would find a small basement equipped as a laundry and cleaning room. An old door on the right, made in white wood and padlocked, passed for an old disused storeroom— except for the fact that its owner had actually managed to take great advantage of it.

A small key that the apartment's owner always carried around opened up the padlock. Inside, a series of black television monitors ocuppied an entire wall. Below them, there was a large white wooden desk with a lone computer desktop on it and opposite a comfortable office chair. On the right, a small section of the storage room had been converted into a home dark room and some unrevealed photos hung from a rope at that moment, fastened with tweezers.

The person who sit in that darkened room had control of the world. He could spy on anyone he wanted with impunity and get all the information he wanted about them. The lives he saw on the screens were at his disposal.

That night, the lives exposed were surgeon Robert Visconti and his boyfriend, canine psychologist Graham Williamson: Will and Hannibal, as they used to be called in privacy, had met around seven in the kitchen to prepare dinner. The man sitting in the chair had heard them talk and enjoy drinks while they preparing a stew of duck and the dogs ate their food in plastic bowls.

At eight o'clock someone rang the doorbell. Hannibal stood in the kitchen while Will went to answer the door. In the doorstep was a young Asian woman dressed in black, with cotton pants and a satin blouse, boots with high heels and a cloth coat. She has straight black hair and black eyes. Smiling and attractive, she had greeted Will with a kiss on his cheek and he had offered her a glass of wine before dinner— and then he had given her a tour of the house before they meet Hannibal - who was finishing setting the table - in the dining room.

The dinner was filled with dull conversation: boring mentions to work, silly jokes, some laughs— a couple of wine bottles and some questions about the therapy, which were quickly answered while the doctor went to the kitchen to get the dessert. Beverly went home a few hours later, by car, and she said goodbye to her hosts at the door with a hug.

That had been a dinner like any other. Although it has given him some interesting data: Beverly was a specialist telecommunications and spended her free time as a volunter in one of the shelters where Will worked. And, as he has suspected, the good doctor was the chef in that house. He was also was a great host, polite cultured and considerate. The man sitting in the chair asked himself what was the doctor doing with such a mediocre slovenly guy like Will. They seemed to have nothing in common. They must love so much to can stand each other.

That night, for hours, the man sitting in the chair was reviewing the content of the recordings. They were going downloaded periodically from the memory card from the camera to his computer, where he could work comfortably with the information. He was very satisfied and often proud of how sophisticated his system was— but, in fact, this was not so perfect as he thought. There were certain details the system overlooked: small details as the detection device Beverly had hidden in her coat while Will showed her the house, and which had helped her to locate - and then study - the cameras installed inside the house. Likewise, the system couldn't captured the text messages Beverly and Will exchanged later, when the woman parked her car a few blocks away and the first thing she did as she walked toward the camouflaged van was use her mobile phone to inform his colleagues of her inquiries via WhatsApp:

 _Six cameras_ – she wrote to Will, who at the time was washing the dishes while Hannibal finished up the kitchen - _hall, kitchen, living room, dining room, and upstairs hall. Nor trail in bedrooms or bathrooms (he has been respectful). He's using WIFI technology, so he'll keep you controlled from a safe place.  
_

 _Do the cameras have audio?  
_

 _Audio, video and motion sensor. They are an advanced model. We cannot remove or analyze them for clues because our friend would notice. Still, we try to hack the signal to get some control over what he records.  
_

 _Thanks, Beverly. Hannibal asks me to praise your technology skills.  
_

 _Thank him and tell him I praise his cooking. That Duck confit has been the best I've tasted in my life!  
_

 _Your words flatter him. You are invited to return to our table anytime.  
_

 _Thank you, I take your word. Now I must leave you, we have work to do.  
_

 _Take care. Good night, Beverly.  
_

 _Good night, Will._


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Friday afternoon, Will and Hannibal returned to doctor Landon's office. The receptionist led them into the office, where the psychologist was waiting for.

'Good afternoon.' he greeted them with a smile, shaking their hands. 'Hannibal. Will. Sit down, please.' they obeyed and the doctor sat in front of them. 'Well, tell me, how's been these days?'

'Very good.' Will said, with a smile.

'We took your advice and we tried to spend more time together.' said Hannibal. 'I've requested a change of shift at the hospital, so Will and I can meet more often at home.'

'That's a great idea.' approved Landon, nodding. 'The truce is woring well, from what I can see.'

'Indeed.' Will confirmed. 'It had been so long we didn't make dinner together or went out for a walk with the dogs.'

'Are you happy with the change?'

'So much.' he gave a look of satisfaction to his partner. 'Hannibal is making an effort.'

'I'm glad you see it.' he corresponded him with a slight smile.

'It is important in a relationship know see the other.' agreed Landon, watching them both. 'Sometimes, especially when we are in the middle of a conflict, it is easy for us get over our partner or even ourself. We forget that desires and expectations exist. For this session, I would propose you an exercise about it.' he announced. 'I want each one of you speak about his expectations in this relationship: what do you expect from it? And what do you expect from the person you are sharing your life? Hannibal.' the doctor looked at him. 'Would you mind to start, please?'

'Of course.' he hesitated for a moment, searching the words. He looked up at Will's eyes, as he had done in the first session. 'My expectations for this relationship are I hope it lasts forever. Clearly I want Will in my life. I would give everything he needs, everything he wants. I know he dreams of a house in the country, where a large pack of dogs can play and run happily around.' the young man smiled and Hannibal smiled back. 'I want you to realize your dreams. That's the reason why I try so hard because I want the best for you.'

'I did not know that was the reason.' Will said, after a pause.

'However, I expected you know,' he grimaced, 'you could understand.'

'I understand perfectly. But I cannot know what you intend, or what you want, if you do not tell me.'

'I say you the same.' he fixed on him his chestnut gaze. 'Tell me, what do you want? What do you expect from me, from what we have?'

'I want it to last.' he confessed, honestly. 'What we have has become important to me, Hannibal, and I want to keep it. The little house in the countryside, the dogs— you are already a part of it and I cannot imagine a different life. I hope our relationship remains and I expect you to put the same effort than me to get it.'

'You can count on me.'

Landon watched one and another in the silence that followed.

'You're doing very well.' he said. 'You have made a great progress since your first visit.'

'Therapy helps.' Hannibal admitted.

'That's true.' Will nodded.

'Glad to hear it.' the psychologist opened the leather-bound book in front of him and consulted the appointment calendar. 'This time I will give you an appointment within one week: next Friday at four, okay?' they both nodded. Landon said the date and closed the book with a smile. 'Perfect. Now, in the time we have left, I want you to make a last exercise: each one must say what you dislike about your partner and what you'd like they changed. Will, please, it's your turn this time.'

'Okay.' he pondered his answer for a few seconds. 'What I dislike about Hannibal is he tends to be impenetrable.' the young man looked at his partner and caught a glimmer of interest in the eyes of the psychiatrist. 'Most of the time I find out what he thinks, but— sometimes I do not know and I got the feeling he's hiding something. I know that's normal, we all have our secrets. But thereis something in Hannibal I cannot decipher. I would like that changed and he trusted me enough to don't be opaque to me.'

'I've always been honest with you, Will. I trust you.'

'I know.'

A pause. It was the turn of the psychiatrist:

'What I dislike about Will is its insecurity.' he said. 'It put barriers around him and prevents him from being who he really is, get what he really wants. Sometimes it even makes difficult to deal with him. I know where this insecurity comes from because he has told me and I understand, but— I would like he changed in that regard. I wish he were more confident, not worry so things and that opened me so that we could share everything.' grimaced. 'While watching what you think about my opacity, I think we're both going to have to work on it.'

'I trust we can do.'

'Me too. I am willing to do everything in my power to our relationship keeps on.'

Will nodded, giving his assent to the idea. Landon watched them both and nodded in turn, with a smile that showed his satisfaction with the progress of the couple.

'I think that's all for today, gentlemen. I advise you to continue along the same path: keep on strengthen your mutual trust and honesty. And do not forget to spend time together. Maybe you can take a weekend getaway.' he recommended. Then he stood to say them goodbye, shacking their hands again. 'See you on Friday.'

'Thank you Doctor.'

'Goodbye, Dr. Landon.'

'Bye.'

He showed them to the door. There was another couple in the waiting room and the psychologist led them to his office, as they left the building.

'Not bad.' Will said, stepping into the car.

'The exercises are interesting.' confirmed Hannibal, closing the door side driver and turning to reach his seatbelt.

'It was like True or Dare but without Dare.'

'Do you bother,' he asked, starting the engine, 'we are sincere in our answers?'

'No. Giving honest answers is easy and does not damage our cover— but if we continue exchanging such confessions, even I'll start to think we're in love.'

Hannibal laughed, as he maneuvered his Bentley to join the traffic on the avenue.

Two hundred meters later, they stopped at a red light.

'I've been thinking.' he said, turning to look at his copilot. 'The doctor's advice has given me an idea.'

'Do you mean we must take a weekend getaway?'

'I was actually thinking about the small fair that have installed these days in the park Lafayette. No big deal, but it could be fun. And it's not far from home.'

'You want to take me to the fair?' He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Do not you like fairs?'

'And you?'

'I liked them when I was a child.' he replied vaguely.

'Me too. But you do not think I'm a little old to ride a pony?'

'I can buy you candyfloss, if you prefer.' Will corresponded to his joke with a grimace, between ironic and contemptuous. 'We can take the dogs.' Hannibal added. 'It is a park, nobody is going to stop them the entrance. We could take them after dinner. What do you think?'

In Will's blue eyes suddenly awoke the interest: the idea of taking Winston and Buster to the fair seemed him exhilarating.

'I think it's great.' he replied, pleased.

'Can I count on you, then?'

'Count on me. And on Buster and Winston.'

'Okay.' a smile curled the psychiatrist's lips, while the traffic light is put in green and both take their way back home.

* * *

The night soon fell on Baltimore. In front of an apartment building that was opposite to Lafayette Park, there was a van parked with a which said April's flower shop. Inside this were the surveillance team, who had been informed of his departure plans by Hannibal and Will shortly before dinner.

At the moment, the night was being quiet: the GPS were operating, bugged were transmitting any sound from the fair and he had managed to connect themselves to the public system of surveillance cameras, so they had a clear view of the area in several kilometers around. They had everything under control.

At eleven thirty three strokes was heard in the back door of the van and all they turned, shocked to see Jack Crawford appears. The unit head was dressed in black pants, dark green jacket and a matching jersey. He climbed quickly to the vehicle and closed the door behind him before spoke:

'Good night everyone.' he greeted. 'I'm sorry for the interruption.'

'Agent Crawford.' Harper looked surprised.

'Sir, we believed you were at home.' said Beverly, equally dumbfounded.

'Bella's sister is there.' he explained. 'She has replaced me, so I've decided to come to see how is going the mission. Do we have anything interesting?'

'So far, nothing.' Beverly said, as the man approached to the spy monitors.

'What are doing our lovebirds?' Jack asked, taking a seat agent Davies offered him and putting on a pair of headphones to capture the sound.

'They're at the fair. They have brought the dogs with them.'

'Typical of Will.' he looked for the couple on the screen. He picked them out walking towards the large esplanade of the park, where certainly going to have an important event, judging by the number of people they were gathering around. He could see Lecter, with his informal gray suit without tie and Will wearing jeans and a black coat, carrying under his arm something which seemed as a dark, hulking shape. 'What the hell is that?' He asked, leaning to the monitor while he frowned.

'Oh!' Beverly smiled at him. 'That's a bear. Will has won fishing ducks in one of the game booths.'

'He is good fisherman.' praised Harper.

'Yes, I know.' replied Jack. 'Why have he chosen such a big bear? Was it the first prize?' He turned to look at the young Asian woman.

'That seems.' she shrugged.

'It's almost as big as he.' Jack noticed, fixing his eyes on the screen again. Then he sighed, retreating. 'Well, if he lose we would know what to look for: a man blinded after a giant gray wolf.'

'It will make the task easier.' Beverly joked.

They kept focused on their work during the next few hours, without much happening. At midnight the esplanade was crowded and when the light show began, they understood why: it was a fantastic show, with lights of all colors that lit heaven and adopted increasingly bizarre and dramatic ways, often ripping exclamations of admiration in the audience.

In the middle of the murmur of people, suddenly they heard Will's voice:

'Once I saw a show like this at a fair in Newport. My father and I spent there a few days when I was a child. It was there I adopted my first dog.'

'Really?' Lecter's voice sounded interested.

'I called him Bucky. Although I should not say it was my dog, because I really only fed him. We could not afford a pet and I had to leave him behind when we left— I cried buckets as we parted.'

'I'm so sorry. How old were you?'

'Ten years. I went every night to the fair because it was where Bucky used to wander. The last night we were watching the lights, just him and me, sitting on the floor next to one of game booths. It is one of the best memories I have.'

'How was the show?'

'It was beautiful.'

Through cameras the unit watched as Will turned and watched the show, with lights illuminating the thoughtful expression on his face and the half smile across his face. Minutes after the young man spoke again, turning to his companion. This time his face was serious:

'Do you think he is watching us?' Lecter turned to look at him, puzzled. 'Our friend.' he clarified. 'Do you think he's here with us at this time?'

'It is probable. In one way or another, I'm sure he follows our steps.'

'So— maybe we should give him what he is looking for.' he said, frowning with decision.

'What are you thinking?' He asked, curious to know what his partner had in mind and where he would be willing to go with it.

'We are a couple, we must act as such.' he held out his right arm to encircle Hannibal's waist. He made it slowly, giving time to his partner in case he desired refuse.

Everyone in the van saw like Hannibal responded, surrounding Will's shoulders with an arm and strokling absently the young man's brown hair with a hand, as his partner rested momentarily his head on his shoulder. They watched them stayed together, side by side.

'They know how to get into the role.' agent Davies praised.

'They are not afraid to take risks.' Jack said, nodding satisfied. 'That's partly the reason why I chose them.'

Both men remained together until the show ended, forty five minutes later. Then they moved away to the parking with the rest of the crowd, agreeing go home because both, they and the dogs, were tired.

Will handed Hannibal Winston's strap and charged with his giant wolf under his arm all the way to the parking lot. The doctor held both dogs in one hand while the other held close to his partner. Will's face was serious but not uncomfortable, it was totally neutral.

Hannibal's expression hid a victorious smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

There is a small cabin lost in the woods of Maryland. It is made entirely of wood and in the back stands an old stone fireplace. It is located at an indefinite point between Baltimore and Towson, not far from Port Haven.

If we cross the narrow dirt path dotted with vegetation that leads to its door and we cross the threshold, the first thing we see is a diaphanous room where coexist equally a kitchen and a spacious lounge. There were two doors on the right which give access respectively to the bathroom and to the only bedroom of the house. Inside the cabin all is clean and tidy and judging by what we see around us, it is clear that its owner frequently visits it.

There is a door in the back, in the kitchen area: it leads to the backyard, where if we walked a little to the left and we came to the outdoor fireplace, we can easily find the wooden doors that protrude from the ground and are the entrance to an underground basement.

The basement has a dirt floor and concrete walls. It is a large and secluded room isolated from the house, a dark place despite the halogen lamps hanging from the ceiling to compensate for the fact that it has no windows. The only furniture in the room is a large wooden table in the center, a couple of desks placed in the bottom, and several shelves covering the other walls— except for the small space occupied by two large cages: they are made of reinforced steel and its size is sufficient to contain animals of a certain size. They could even accommodate a human beings, if they were shrunken or sitting.

On the shelves, hundreds of boats contains sealed trophies preserved in Formalin, which have been collected regularly over the last five years. The air in the basement smells like dirt, sawdust and blood. Such a smell should attract certain animals, but the underlying flavors - to fear and death - keeps away curious and predators permanently.

There is a man working in the basement right now. He is dressed in fatigue pants, boots and shirt. He is whistling softly an old song while working, cleaning and sharpening their tools. He is in the cabin since Friday. He has traveled directly from the office where he works in Baltimore and plans to return to the city that evening, when he had left everything prepared for his guests: he's going to spend the weekend in the company of a couple in love.

The man ends with the last instrument. He gently blows on it and then carefully clean it with a cotton cloth, which has been previously sterilized. He holds the scalpel before his eyes to see his work and nods, satisfied. The scalpel blade is bright and well balanced. With a simple twist of his wrist he can cut the air, as he checks several times and the results makes him smile.

The scalpel is a sharp accurate weapon— it's ready to slice the arteries of a heart off.

* * *

At eight o'clock, as they had agreed, they met in the hallway.

Hannibal left his bedroom wearing dark gray trousers, a shirt and a purple sweater. He wore a beautiful silk tie in gray and purple stripes. A few meters ahead Will waited for him, wearing dark blue jeans and a crisp white shirt, a light grey vest and a thin black tie that matched his shoes. Neatly combed hair, trimmed beard and rebel brown curls on his forehead completed his look.

'You're gorgeous.' approved the psychiatrist to get to him. 'So elegant.'

The young man smiled.

'Thank you. I tell you the same.'

'May we go down to dinner?'

'Let's go.' they walked down the stairs. 'I'm looking forward you try my ham and cheese sandwiches.'

'The correct term is _croque monsieur_ , Will.' Hannibal corrected him. 'And I'm also looking forward to try them.'

The FBI agent had had an excellent idea: he had think they could organize a romantic date at home. After their successful visit to the fair last night, he thought nothing better for a couple on a Saturday night to enjoy a reconciliation date at home.

'I think we can draw him.' he had said that morning in the bathroom, while they were brushing their teeth. 'A date is the kind of event he wouldnt let pass. And if he gets close enough, we can catch him.'

Hannibal had nodded, giving his approval. He knew Will, as the good fisherman he was, was eager to offer a bait which gave them good results and allowed them once and for all catch the fish they were looking for. Certainly, it was time for them to do a certain movement after nearly a week - plus the months they had already been the case – working undercover.

Will's idea had aroused the psychiatrist's curiosity. Even more when the young man offered himself to be the chef that night: while they were sailing together betwee his recipes, looking for a suitable menu for their date, Will had found a dish that made him wonder because his father used to cook often for both— he had no idea it could be in a sample of French recipes. The fact encouraged him and leading by his enthusiasm, Hannibal only could put his kitchen at his disposal and took a seat to witness so interesting experiment in the front row.

He found it was a pleasant experience to see Will cooking: the young man moved confidently in his kitchen. He put so much attention in presenting the sandwiches, cooked a pretty decent roti and prepared carefully the apples for the Norman's cake. Hannibal watched all the process with feline eyes, amazed and fascinated at the same time. Will doesn't know much about cooking and as pinche he was just acceptable, but it was clear that when he wanted to get something he was more than capable of overcome all handicaps. He earned his respect for the umpteenth time that afternoon— and when he tested the first bite of his _croque monsieur_ , his palate was one step to applaud the chef.

'What do you think?' Will asked, watching him expectantly from across the table. He looked insecure, as who faces a stern judge in an examination.

Hannibal wiped with his napkin carefully the remains of Emmentaler cheese on the commissure of his lips and looked directly at his partner.

'Delicious.' he said, and watched with a smile as the other man relaxed in his chair and smiled. 'With these references, you can use my kitchen whenever you want.' he joked, although both knew that he was being serious.

'Thank you.'

They continued eating, relaxed and happy. When they were eating the roti roast pork, Dr. Lecter dared to speak again:

'Abigail called me this morning.' Will looked up from his plate to hear him mention his goddaughter. 'We had agreed to meet this weekend.'

'And you has had to cancel.' he deduced. Hannibal nodded. 'I'm sorry. But surely Abigail could understand.'

'Of course. Although she was quite distressed, because you know she has not many visits at Port Haven.'

Will nodded, grimacing.

'It must be hard to be there alone.'

'She seemed depressed to me, if I must tell the truth.' the young man looked at him with concern. 'I felt so sorry for her and I hope you do not mind, but I believed you and I were compelled to compensate her, so I said her we would go to visit her tomorrow.'

'But...?' Will was surprised.

'I said we'd go to the lake Vigil and you teach her to fish, as you promised once. It has not been a rational act.' he admitted, seeing the expression on his companion's face. 'I had no choice. For real I felt she needed it. And the truth is the lake is a busy place. Nothing bad can happen there, do not you think?' He looked for his acceptance.

Will pondered it for a moment and finally sighed.

'I think you're right.'

'Forgive me if my initiative has upset you. I know I should've consulted you before say anything to Abigail—.'

'Don't apologize. Actually, you're right: it has been so much time we made her a visit. We are here, busy with our own lives and works, and she is there alone—.' there was a glimmer of guilt in his eyes. 'I think you've done well. We'll fix to go see her tomorrow.'

'Thanks, Will.'

The young man nodded. The rest of the dinner passed in silence. When the dessert was finished, the two men picked up the table together and washed the dishes, before returning to the dining room to share a last glass of wine.

'I'm curious.' said Will, taking the first sip of his drink. 'What entertain us you prepared for us?'

Hannibal approached him with a smile. Agreeing that the FBI agent would take charge of the food night that night, they had also agreed the psychiatrist who would prepare the entertainment.

'Actually, this is a very simple pastime. I'm not sure if you'll like it, but I hope you'll enjoy it.'

'What does it consist of?'

'If you want to know, you must let me take you to the bedroom.' he insinuated, leaving his glass on the shelf.

Will remained silent. That was the sign that it was time. They were both standing in front of the fireplace, by the painting which represented the seduction of Queen Leda by a Zeus metamorphosed into a swan. At the back of the picture, they knew his friend had hidden one of its cameras. So they both had agreed privately that that night they would offer the bait and that was the best way to do it.

He left his glass near to his friend's and raised a hand to touch the other man face, affectionately. Hannibal leaned forward and turned his head at the last moment to kiss him.

He kissed him on his cheek, very close to his lips, and both knew that in front of the camera it seems something else— such was their intention. Will cradled his hand in the hair of his partner, tangling his fingers in it as his lips found Hannibal's cheek. Along the other's arms surrounded him by the waist in a warm embrace, he caught the pleasant smell of his after shave. Hannibal's lips brushed his neck with a touch so light as the flutter of a butterfly. It was a pleasant feeling for Will and without reason it made him shudder, unexpectedly increasing the frequency of his pulse.

Will blinked, confused. He pushed the psychiatrist away gently and, following the game, took his hand to take him to the bedroom. Together, they went upstairs and closed the door to their back as they reached the master room.

That was the moment when Will let the doctor go.

'What do we do now?' Hannibal asked. 'Do you think he has taken the bait?'

'I hope so.' the young man looked around, his gaze on the big bed, which was the central focus of the room. 'We'll have to spend the night here.' he said. 'If we go out, the camera in the hall capture us and we shall waste our shtick.'

'I agree.' the doctor nodded. 'Anyway, it was here where I intended to bring you.'

Will looked at him surprised and the other said, giving him the hint of a smile:

'It was true I had prepared an entertainment for both in this room.' he pointed to the skylight roof, through which they could see the sky and stars. Then he took a small remote control that was on the dresser and pressing a button which automatically opened the skylight, to the astonishment of Will. 'I think we could contemplate the show better if we lay on the ground.' he said, leaving the control in its place to approach the cabinet for take a blanket.

He extended it just below the skylight and then collected a pair of bed pillows to they could rest their heads on them while they were lying. When he finished assembling his astronomical position, he looked at Will while his hand reach the knot of his tie.

'Get comfortable, please.' he said, getting rid of the garment.

The young man didn't wait for it repeated. Unaccustomed to formal attire, He removed his tie, vest and shoes, just like his partner. And to add even more comfort, he unbuttoned his cuffs and the top button of his shirt, rolling up his sleeves up the elbow.

They lay on the blanket next to each other. The view was spectacular from there, with a bit starry sky to themselves.

'There's Orion.' Will said, pointing a finger at the constellation. 'And there is Sirius.'

'The Dog Star.' Hannibal confirmed, nodding. 'In China they call it the heavenly wolf star. It is so old that the Egyptians were already talking about it in his writings and related it to the time of the Nile floods.

'And in Greco-Roman mythology it was associated with Orion the Hunter: Sirius was one of dogs with which he hunted.'

'If humans would have assigned a star, that could be yours.' he declared.

They exchanged glances.

'It's the brightest star in the sky. At least we you saw it from Earth.'

'Is it your favorite?'

'Yes.' he nodded and smiled as he turned to look at the star. 'It is beautiful, isn't it?'

'Yes, it is.' appreciated the psychiatrist, contemplating the face of his partner.

'At Wolf Trap, sometimes, I go out to look at them.' Will confessed after a pause. 'It relaxes me. Specially in summer nights, which are warmer and the kids and I can sleep outside if we want. In the countryside you can see the stars better than in the city.'

'I know. Light pollution is the enemy of astronomical experiences.' he complained, wincing.

'One night you could come to see the stars with me.' he suggested, looking into his eyes. 'My backyard is not as elegant as your bedroom, but ...'

'I could adapt.'

'Seriously?' He raised eyebrows skeptically.

'Yes, if you promise me it will be only a night.' he joked. Will smiled and after a few seconds, he looked at the sky again.

They stayed there for a while, talking about stars and mythology. In the end, the two were silent: Will watching his star, Sirius. Hannibal thinking about how it would be to see the sky in Wolf Trap.

He tried to recreate the scene in his head: a starry night under the moonlight in the backyard of Will's house; the dogs would sleep o run around them, without disturbing them; they would feel the smell of fresh grass and forest in Summer; the sound of crickets and perhaps some nocturnal bird would come to his ears; Will would be at his side and he would surround his shoulders with one arm, while they talked and told stories each other and he would feel how little by little Will was falling asleep; He would hear his breathing becoming more relaxed and the last thing he would be conscious before falling into the embrace of Morpheus would be the weight of his partner's head resting on his chest—


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

Sunday was a sunny day. Will and Hannibal got up early and got into the Bentley to left Baltimore and headed for Port Haven. On their way they visited a store in downtown to got their fishing gear. Hannibal drove, so that gave his partner the opportunity of think while he was watching the scenery through his window.

Their starring night had been a success. Hannibal and he have remained awake until small hours, and then they shared the bed without hesitation, although it had been a little weird for him because he had not shared a bed with another man since childhood, with his father, when the poverty of their accommodation forced them to do it.

The experience with Hannibal had been pleasant. Too much, perhaps?

He closed his eyes for a moment. What nonsense was he thinking about!? The night had been normal: the bed was so broad Hannibal and he had not even come to touch in any time. The only embarrassing episode was happened when he woke up from a nightmare – at that moment he doesn't remember it well already – and his cry caused Hannibal leap out of bed in his pajamas, hair scrambled, like a soldier ready for the battle.

He still felt embarrassed for that: he had given Lecter the shock of his life, pulling him suddenly out of bed at three o'clock. And still the psychiatrist had been attentive and reassuring with him, carrying a hand to his forehead to check his temperature - he was only intemperate - and preparing a warm bath so he could relax and sleep in peace the rest of the night. Meanwhile he was busy changing the sheets which to his shame he was soaked in sweat. And Hannibal even lent him one of his pajamas, a blue silk that was as smooth as comfortable, although it didn't fit him well because its owner was higher than him and his hips were slightly wider.

The rest of the night he had slept smoothly and the next morning, when his eyes opened, the first thing he saw was his partner. He was lying on his back, deeply asleep. A tousled bangs fell over his forehead and the corners of his lips moved spasmodically during sleep, a fully comic and unconscious way: as a feline who tried to snort or breathe heavily.

He remembered having seen Hannibal funny, until suddenly something changed: an unknown emotion hit him hard on the heart. It was so powerful and complex that confused him because he couldn't understand it and therefore he decided to ignore it, departing from the doctor's side and leaving the bed to get dressed and go down to the kitchen, where he focussed on preparing breakfast.

Two hours later there they were, traveling together by road to visit Abigail and he tried to stop thinking about that absurd affair. What he had felt that morning looking at the sleeping face of Lecter was simply part of the bond of friendship and admiration that bound him to the doctor. There was no dark intent, no hidden longing in it. Nor lust or desire, for God's sake. He would not suddenly wake up one morning to discover he had fallen in love with Hannibal Lecter—

 _Perhaps I've become too accustomed to be his partner_ \- he thought sarcastically.

He turned his head and looked for a moment through the security gate to the dogs in the seat behind. Both were sleeping, Winston curled in his seat and Buster safely inside the carrier Hannibal had bought to accomodate him during the trip. The small terrier seemed very at ease.  
He had grown accustomed to a psychiatrist - which clearly accepted as an owner - even more than he. Unlike Winston, which did not leave the room except when he was home, Buster often followed Hannibal around the house and he used to watch him from his bed in the kitchen while the doctor was preparing dinner. His friend even had fun teaching the dog some tricks, as giving the paw, play dead - Buster dropped gracefully and tensing his tiny body until it seemed stiff. It was really funny - and bring the objects they asked for— this latter they had to eliminate from his repertoire a posteriori, because Buster had stolen who knows how his bottle of aftershave and was buried it deeply in the backyard. It was not bothered him at all, he only used that aftershave because it was given to him all Christmas. However, Hannibal was very upset when he showed him the bottle cover on mud and grass he had just drawn from the bowels of the earth— since then, never more.

Will changed his position in the seat and looked out the window. He wondered what would happen when this was over and they had to return to Wolf Trap. A part of him was hoping for that, because after nearly a week of compulsory exile all he wanted was to come back home and share the day with his family. He knew Winston would agree with him— but Buster had grown fond of Hannibal. It would be difficult for him to leave, because the doctor had made all of them felt very comfortable in his home: he had shared with them his time, care and culinary arts. At first, he never thought they were like to live with him— now he feared that when they left, they would do it with sadness.

* * *

Lake Vigil was beautiful at that time of day. A large covered esplanade of green grass and coniferous peppered around the calm waters of the pond. Temperature was comfortable, so the picnic area beside the lake was filling with the first couples and families with children, who came to spend Sunday there.

Abigail, Hannibal and Will left the car in the parking lot and were walking with the dogs - Hannibal had a large canvas bag in one hand and the picnic basket on the other – to find a site that seemed to settle well: next to the water and directly below a great oak.

Once installed, Abigail and Will began a quick lesson on handling reeds and hooks. Then, overalls and waterproof boots to protect water were took on and, holding hands, Will led both of them to a point of the lake where the water came to knee. Winston followed them but after a moment of hesitation, he decided to lay down by the lake to watch them. Meanwhile, Buster took his place next to Hannibal.

'The trick is in the wrist: move it gently.' Will said to Abigail, placing himself behind to help her throw the rod. She obeyed and the fishing line sank successfully several meters ahead. She turned to look at Will with an expression of triumph. 'Now, wait.' said the man, smiling back.

He moved this time to her side and threw his fishing line. Hannibal was watching them from the shore, with an open notebook on his lap and a charcoal pencil in his hand. A brief smile crossed the doctor's face. Those two were the perfect picture of a happy family, besides being an accurate demonstration of Will's parenting skills. He knew he had them, of course, for that reason he had decided to give him a daughter— so and because he wanted to play the role of father with Abigail and he needed someone at his side to help him do it. Who better suited for that role than Will? He had the patience, intelligence and empathy necessary to deal with a teenager and Abigail had developed a high degree of trust and affection for him, almost as much like himself—

He pressed charcoal pencil between his fingers to push feelings away from his mind. He put the pencil on paper and embarked himself on a full drawing that took him two hours. He only looked up from the notebook when he heard the others returned, happy, wet and with a fish in each hand.

'I've caught a trout!' Abigail announced excitedly, showing him her trophy.

'She has achieved it to the first' Will said, unable to hide the pride in his voice.

Hannibal smiled.

'I think we should cook them.' he proposed. By then it was approaching lunchtime. Hannibal left his notebook and pencil aside, kneeling down to achieve bag and basket he had brought with him. 'I have everything which is needed.' he said, opening the basket for start taking the ingredients and cooking utensils he needed.

He pulled out the bag a small barbecue for camping and placed it before him. While he took charge of preparations, he gave Abigail a wooden board and a knife for her to peel and slice the onions and potatoes. Will, meanwhile, collected the fish and left along with dogs to clean it some meters away, delivering the last trout to the dogs as lunch.

An hour later, humans enjoyed three Norman trout, grilled and accompanied with some potatoes and steamed basmati aromatic rice. To drink they had to be content with a non-alcoholic liquor, as Abigail was not allowed to legally drink until twenty-one.

They had their lunch and after pick it all up, humans and dogs took a rest together under the tree.

Hannibal had just closed his eyes when Abigail spoke, dozing beside Will:

'I'm having very well. I am glad you have come to see me.'

'We also were glad.'

'I have missed you' she confessed. 'In Port Haven I do not have anyone but Alana, and she just can come occasionally.'

'I know.' he looked at her. In his voice and eyes there was an apology. 'Hannibal and I have had many obligations recently, but as we've finished them we'll come to see you more often, ok?

She nodded, satisfied. They fell asleep after that.

Abigail was the first to wake up. She looked around and realized the afternoon was finishing. The sun was slowly disapearing toward west, while many couples in the distance were leaving the lake. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket and checked the time: five o'clock. They still had a few hours before that they had to return to Port Haven. The girl wondered what she could do to entertain herself and seeing the dogs were awake, she came up with an idea.

The sound of barking woke Hannibal, an hour later. He opened his eyes, sleepy, and he could see a few meters as Abigail was playing with the dogs. The sky was losing its blue color, while the sun turned into a golden torch, ready to hide behind the lake waters. It doesn't missing more than an hour for night to fall and he had agreed to leave Abigail back in the center as late after dinner—

He turned to Will to see if he still was asleep. He saw his pale face beaded with sweat and his slightly labored breathing. He took his temperature immediately and not surprised when he corroborated the young man was on fire. He tried to wake him, but got no response: under the eyelids, Will's eyes were blank. He had lost consciousness, attacked by fever.

'Abigail!' He called, upset. The girl left her games alerted by his tone and came right away.

'What's up?' she asked, worried.

'Collect things, we have to take Will home. He is sick.'

'Sick?' she looked surprised. 'A while ago he was fine. What happened to him?'

'He just have a fever.' said Hannibal. 'His health has been a little resentful these days. It is nothing serious, do not worry. Please, help me.'

Abigail obeyed. She carried the bags to the car park - and then to the car - while her tutor was engaged to carry Will, holding him by the waist. The dogs were following close, circling around them, restless because their smell divined the disease.

'Will is going to be all right?' asked the girl, watching in dismay as Hannibal deposited Will carefully in the passenger seat and secured him with the seatbelt.

'You have nothing to fear.' the doctor reassured, opening the back door for her and the dogs took their seats. Then he went into the car and started the engine.

He drove for forty-five minutes to Port Haven and it was dark when he left Abigail at the door, with the promise he would send her a message as soon as they got home and the next day he would respond to her call to tell her as Will continued.

Hannibal left, leaving her there. He checked often the state of his partner, who still had not regained consciousness. He was sure that there was no reason to be alarmed. It was just a little fever. He would give Will saline solution to prevent dehydration, if he had not been awakened to when they reached Baltimore and would take care of him overnight. Surely in the morning he would wake up hungry and tired, rather exhausted, and no memory of what happened. He would take care of keeping him stable until they recover—

The carpet of thorns, placed in its path on the road, blew the two front wheels. The car was about to lose control and Hannibal had to maneuver sharply to prevent it from tipping over or crashing into the trees along the route. He managed to restrain in time and the Bentley sttoped dead across the road.

He looked around for a moment, surprised. Then headlights lit on his right and he was dazzled: through the arm he had risen to protect his eyes he could see something which looked like a black SUV. A large car, with the lights on the top, judging by the height they illuminated. The glow made the dogs nervous and they began to bark. The carrier vibrated from time to time with Buster's violence and Winston seemed ready to jump right out the window to attack the black behemoth.

A warning bullet hit against the glass without breaking it. The shot frightened the dogs, although it hadn't reached them. They ceased their bustle immediatly. Winston hid under the seat, cautious, while a figure dressed entirely in black and wearing a ski mask approached them.

He had a gun in his hand and pointed to Hannibal with it.

The doctor glanced at his companion, who the fuss had hustler but he still was sailing between consciousness and unconsciousness, which left him completely vulnerable and unable to defend himself.

'Don't you intervene yet.' the psychiatrist spoke quietly, so only the surveillance equipment can heard him. 'Let him lead us and you will be guided to his lair.'

'Doctor Lecter, this is no time to take risks.' Beverly's voice sounded in his ear. 'Hold on. We will reach you in a few minutes.'

'Take it from me, Miss Katz: you will find all the proves you need in his refuge. And trust me, I will not take any risk but we can still make a good use of the GPS tracks.'

Hannibal's arguments did not obtain answer and he raised his hands in surrender when the figure reached them. A part of him was glad to finally meet his friend and that the gimmicks used to lure him had taken effect. Still, he had to admit his appearance was happening at the worst time.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

At the FBI headquarters in Baltimore, Jack Crawford walked down the corridor on the top floor. He was followed by four officers, all armed and wearing bulletproof vests. One carried a rifle and other two were carrying a small battering ram. They were on their way to the elevator, while Jack spoke for his phone with the surveillance equipment:

'Well, you know what to do.' he ordered them. 'Do not lose the contact. I'm going there with equipment. If it gets ugly, do not doubt a minute: stop him and—.'

These were the words Alana Bloom heard, standing in front of the elevator doors. On seeing them arrived, she looked shocked at the squad.

'Jack.'

'Dr. Bloom.'

'What's going on?' she gave a worried look to the agents. 'It seems you're going hunting.'

'Let's go to make a piece.' he nodded. 'Will and Dr. Lecter have put it on a platter for us.'

'Have they caught the killer?'

'Actually, it is the killer who has caught them.' he said, as he walked with his men in the elevator and strummed the key to move down to the parking lot.

Alana paled. Jack could think it was a fluke, an advantage, but it doesn't at all that Will and Hannibal had been captured by a serial killer who would kill them without hesitation—

The woman stepped out and blocked the closing of the doors, slipping immediately into the elevator.

'I'm with you.' she said, determined.

'Dr. Bloom, this is an FBI operation—.'

'I know perfectly. I am aware of it and that's why I will not go home knowing Hannibal and Will are in danger.'

'They are not.' said the head of unit. 'We have everything under control, trust me. The team of Surveillance have them located—.'

'And when they are going to act?' she faced him, angry at his indifference. It was outrageous: he was officially responsible of Hannibal and Will's integrity and he had gotten them into that trap. 'Do you think they must wait until you arrive? By then the killer will already have ripped their hearts off.'

'Nothing wrong is going to happen. They are less than an hour away, we'll arrive on time. But if you wants to join us, you are welcome.' he said, seeing she couldn't be convince or defeated.

Alana said nothing, she just looked forward with pursed lips. Jack sighed and wished he could out of that elevator as soon as possible.

As the doors opened, all went as fast as possible to reach the cars.

* * *

He forced him to turn around and pushed him against the vehicle as he was within reach. He could feel how the other man tied his wrists with plastic cuffs, leaving him helpless with his hands behind his back.

'Please, do not hurt us.' he pleaded. He knew it was useless, and he was not even close frightened by the situation but they must keep up the charade until the time came. 'My partner is ill. If you want money or whatever—.'

He obtained in reply a blow to the head with the butt of the gun. He decided to be dropped ground to convince his captor he had left him without consciousness. Then came the wives girding his feet and the drag to the trunk of the SUV. A few minutes later Will joined him with a bleeding wound on his temple that fortunately was not serious and that his friend would have won, he was sure, trying to resist the kidnapping. Brave until the last moment. Offer ressistance in his circunstances wasn't practical, and despite of that Hannibal couldn't but admire his courage.

Once they both were inside the trunk, their captor took on roads and paths to their final destination: a lost cabin in the woods. He discharged them, one by one, and led them into the bowels of a basement located on the back of the cabin.

There was Hannibal now: lying face down on the ground floor, while Will was deposited in a large wooden table that occupied the center of the room, where he was tied with heavy leather belts up to his wrists, ankles, thighs and waist. The young agent was only half conscious, still confused by the blow and fever, but when his captor returned to his side - pushing a metal table with wheels, filled with surgical instruments - and tried to use a pair of scissors to cut his shirt, Will turned his head and tried bite his arm.

He received a strong slap in return. And as a bonus, a new belt appeared to stick to his neck tightly, to the point of letting him motionless and suffocated. Hannibal rebelled against such a rudeness. He decided to act immediately, because the killer was cutting and stripping Will's clothes and very soon, if he didn't intervene, he would strip much more. They could not wait for reinforcements, it was necessary to take control of the situation.

He rolled onto his side and bent his knees, bringing them to his stomach and adopting a fetal position. He then counterweight to the body as he turned to the other side, leaning on his knees and making them rise above. By then his partner had already been completely stripped, including shoes. He lie on the table, exposed, not only to facilitate the removal of the heart but as a method of punishment and humiliation.

Hannibal clasped his wrists and squeezed as much as he could, being released with a thud that broke wives closing at its weakest part. He did everything quietly to avoid alert his enemy. He kept his hands behind his back to hide his release and gain advantage, holding the sharp end of the plastic strap as only weapon.

'What will you do with us?' He asked aloud, trying to distract the killer to gain time. 'What is your goal in that, Justin?'

The young receptionist turned to face him. He had removed his mask as they arrived, revealing his identity. For the psychiatrist it had not been a surprise: he knew it from the instant he caught his scent back home, after he visited them to install the cameras. By then he had his suspicions, since all tests led to the office and, however, it was very clear from the first time they spoke to Isaac Landon that he was not the murderer they were seeking. The doctor was a gentle kind man, a good professional with a genuine willingness to help others. He would not be able to harm his patients, much less kill them and rip their hearts off in cold blood— he was not that kind of person.

'Think of it as an act of justice, doctor— or something like that.' Justin smiled. 'Trust me, this exercise will unite you forever as a couple.'

'Let him go. Put me in his place instead.' he offered and the clerk laughed in his face.

'You have no idea how many times I have been asked for that— and I could not tell how many I refused.'

'Why do you do it?'

'In a nutshell? Because you do not deserve.' he said and his smile faded. 'You and your kind— you don't deserve the happines you enjoyed. You not even appreciate it!' he exclaimed, upset. 'Every day you come to the office with your complaints and whining about your shortcomings and unhappy existence, waiting for Isaac to solve them—.'

'Dr. Landon is also involved in this?'

Justin stopped. His black eyes looked at him with contempt.

'You are very stupid to be a surgeon.' he snapped, offended. 'Of course Isaac is not involved. He would not be able to kill a fly: he is a good man, that's the problem. Your kind take advantage of him, of his talent as a therapist and his desire to help his patients—.'

'That's the difference between him and you, Justin: Dr. Landon is a professional and you're just a frustrated homosexual who kills for envy.' his words beat his interlocutor, leaving him mute. He could see with satisfaction as the young man paled with indignation. 'You're pathetic. You say to yourself you are doing justice to kill these couples, but we both know that's not true. It is not about justice, but of frustration and jealousy: You're like a child who cannot have the toy he wants and when he sees that others have it he destroys it so no one can enjoy it, if he cannot. You're mean and a coward. And as murderer, frankly, you are pretty mediocre. ¿Hearts in formaldehyde?' He looked around, quizzically. 'I have not seen way more useless to preserve trophies. How could you ever think Dr. Landon could notice you?'

'Shut up.' he whispered quietly. 'Shut up, I'm warning you.'

'He would never do that and you know it. It's not just that you're much younger or that you work for him, it's because you're too little thing. Not even dare you to talk him about your feelings, don't you? No, of course not.' he answered himself. 'You know what would happen.'

'You have no idea—.'

'Sure, Justin. Even a blind man could see it.' he stared at him, realizing the young man was so close to losing control. He just needed a little push. 'Isaac never notice you because you're not worth enough. He deserves much better, a real man, not a poor faggot trapped in a closet —.'

'You, motherfucker!' he went after him, furious. Hannibal was waiting for him and the time the boy was at his reach, he pushed with both feet to stand up and lead the hand holding the improvised weapon, inserting as deeply as he could the edge of the plastic handcuffs on the receptionist's left eye.

Justin's cries were music to his ears. While the young man pulled away, benting with pain and trying to remove the strap from his eye, Hannibal stooped to pick up the scissors the receptionist had left and he cuts down the handcuffs that held their feet at the ankles. By then Justin had achieved his target and he had took a scalpel from the table. He looked at Hannibal with an closed bloody eye, hatred and revenge oozed from every pore of his body.

He attacked him again but just with one eye available he couldn't calculate well the distances and his anger did not help him focus on the fight. Hannibal used scissors to disarm him, stabbing it in the back of his hand with a decisive blow in and out. Justin screamed and his voice was soon quelled when the psychiatrist sourrended his neck with one arm and proceeded to strangle him.

Hannibal thought about render him unconscious, because after what happened with Tobias he didn't find desirable that every murderer who he faced just died. A detail like that could eventually raising suspicions. His eyes then fell on Will, abused and humiliated at that table, and his arm tightened his grip. He toyed with the idea of breaking Justin's neck and the possibilities he had to kill him or leave him immobilized for life. What he decided actually not matter, he had plans for the boy—.'

Suddenly, the doord were opened and a troop of armed men down the stairs.

Hannibal immediately released his prey, which fell to the ground without consciousness. He pulled back a couple of steps, raising both hands to show his helplessness while men with uniform were gradually taking possession of the room.

'Doctor Lecter.' Jack Crawford approached him immediately after he entered in the company of Alana, who ran to the table as soon as she saw Will. Before focus his attention on his boss, the psychologist saw how she gave off her jacket to cover Will's nakedness as she checked worried her friend's health. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes.' he nodded. 'I'm afraid Mr. Acker and I have had an unfortunate encounter. He isn't dead—.'

'Don't worry.' Jack downplayed with a gesture. 'We have it all collected in eavesdropping and what you have done here has been to save your life and Will's. You have risked much to provoke the kirer, but— you have done well, doctor.'

'Thank you.'

'I did not expect it was him.' Jack confessed, glowering at the man lying on the floor. 'Everything pointed to Landon. This has been a surprise.'

Hannibal did not respond.

'Will—.'

They turned to face him. The agent was already being treated by his partners, who had released him from the straps and had covered him with a blanket. Now he was sit on the table, legs dangling off the ground and Alana was at his side, taking care of him.

'It seems he'll come out of this.' said Jack and his tone seemed relieved. He smiled. 'He's going to be happy to know we have found the dogs: they were unharmed in the woods, inside the car. The murderer must slide the vehicle down the embankment to remove it out of the way. And speaking of that— the Bureau will pay the bill for your wheels, doctor. Apart from that, your vehicle is in perfect condition.'

'I am glad to hear that. Now, if you do not mind, I think Will and I should go home.'

'Whenever you want, doctor.' Jack conceded, nodding.

They met with Will and Alana. The woman immediately worried about Hannibal's health and expressed her happiness for the fact that none of them had suffered real harm— she said the latter watching Jack with open rebuke. The man looked away.

Will and Hannibal simply exchanged glances.


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE:** I just want to thank all those who have been interested in my history, those who have read it, followed it reviewed it or included it in their bookmarks. Each visit, kudos and review made me happy and also encouraged me to continue translating this fic: I know it is not a perfect translation because my English is far from being perfect but I'm working on it and I just hope you have enjoyed the fic, despite of all its mistakes.  
As you surely will realize when read the Epilogue, I made a small change in the canon, particularly in the diagnosis of Will's encephalitis: I cannot forgive Hannibal for having hid the results to who was supposed to be his patient and friend (doing so, in my opinion, he failed miserably on both areas and put Will in grave danger, causing him an intolerable degree of suffering he must have saved) and much less to try to make Will believe that his illness was mental and not physical. So I made a small adjustment in that direction and I hope it didn't seem inadequate to you. This way no one suffers or is deceived and / or betrayed in his trust and characters like Georgia Madchen have a second chance and are prevented from a cruel and horrible death.  
Finally, just in case you were interested, I must tell you the recipes appeared in this fic have been resorted to the website "La Cocina Francesa", where you could find a treasure of French gastronomy. To me it has been an invaluable help, so I couldn't fail to mention and thank for it.

* * *

 **EPILOGUE**

 _December 25, 2013. 1:25 a.m. Wolf Trap (Virginia)._

Will Graham leaned against the wall, just on the threshold that separated the living room from the kitchen and the dining room, and he watched his guests scattered around the spacious living room: Abigail had fallen asleep in the chair beside one of the windows, and on the other side, occupying two armchairs, Hannibal and Alana was having a conversation while the drunk punch.

Months ago, after solving the case of the couples killer, Will had agreed with Abigail that that year she would spend Christmas at his home, in an attempt to grant the girl for the time and attention she deserves and he couldn't have given her - he knew how much she had worried about his encephalitis. He has been diagnosed months ago, the same night he shot Abel Gideon to defend Alana's life. After that, he was given the floor and long weeks of treatment came during which the psychologist herself, Abigail, and especially Hannibal kept an eye on him. The psychiatrist had spent many evenings and even weekends at his side and he had helped him to clean up the small loft upstairs, where he had the project to install a bedroom for her goddaughter - and incidentally prevent her from passing the holidays alone at Port Haven. Hannibal was immediately added to the invitation, because the girl wanted see they both on those special days. So his friend had given up to his annual Christmas party to move to Virginia and celebrate Christmas Eve with them.

Alana had joined them at the last minute, surprised them with her presence. The doctor had been invited by Abigail, who had booked this surprise for them. Alana arrived smiling and beautiful with a red dress and low-heeled shoes, carrying a large punch bowl filled with homemade fruit punch to honor her hosts. The punch bowl was currently dripping in the kitchen as clean and emptied of its content, which had been consuming among all throughout the night.

Hannibal, meanwhile, had taken charge of bring the music and the entrees: he had pleased their palates during dinner with fresh foie gras, which he had prepared two hours earlier in a pan and then served cold, accompanied by a small toasted crusty bread and wine Xerry. Beside it, Will's turkey roast with baked potatoes looked like a rook placed in front of a peacock— but all them coincided in praising it, as well as the Christmas dessert Abigail had prepared for them.

After an entertaining dinner, seasoned with good conversation and some pieces of classical music, they went to the living room around midnight to open the presents which had been deposited under the tree. In decorative boxes they found several pieces of clothing, a new aftershave for Will – it smelled pleasantly glycerin and essential oils. Abigail had chosen for him with Hannibal's help - and items for the dogs: within others, Orryn got a new bed, Winston a shaped bone biter and Buster a wool coat - red, so he will be well distinguished - for winter.

'He has short hair,' Hannibal said, watching as Will put the coat on the dog, 'and winters in Virginia are so cold.'

'Now he wont hesitate to go to the snow in the morning.' he said, looking at him with a happy smile.' Thanks, Hannibal.'

'You're welcome.' the doctor returned the gesture.

From that moment, everything led to conversations, anecdotes and glasses of punch. Will slipped away as soon as Abigail suggested the should sing some carols, and he busied himself picking up the table and washing the dishes in the kitchen, while the voices of his guests reached him from the background. When he came back to the room he found a much quieter picture.

'I think it's time to go to bed.' Alana said, rising from the chair as she left her glass on a nearby table. She smiled to look at them. 'It has been a great party.'

'Thanks for coming - Will said, smiling back.

'Thanks to Abigail, for inviting me.' she turned to look at the girl and smiled fondly at her asleep in the chair. 'I think I should take her up. It is better she sleeps in her bed.'

Will nodded and the psychologist approached to Abigail to wake her up gently. The young girl opened her eyes and she smiled sleepily. Both women said goodbye to them with a Christmas hug and a goodnight kiss on their cheeks, and both men saw them up the stairs on their way to the bedroom they would share that night.

'I hope that tomorrow Abigail not have a hangover.' Will muttered, wincing.

'She wouldn't have.' said Hannibal, leaving his glass next to Alana. 'The punch barely contained alcohol.'

'Still, we should not have let her drank five glasses.' he replied. He gave a sarcastic glance. 'I bet if they knew in Port Haven, they withdraw us her guardianship: three responsible adults in a house and we have not prevented a teenager from drunk.

'She's not drunk. And it's Christmas: such licenses are granted during the holidays. Furthermore, Abigail could drink alcohol very soon. It's not so bad.' he dismissed, indifferent.

Will didn't say anything. He looked away and soon his mind was caught up in other thoughts. Hannibal knew by the look on his face that he was engaged in something and that sparked his curiosity.

'What are you thinking about?'

'It's nothing. Just—.' he shook his head. 'Do not mind me, it is nonsense.'

'Tell me, please.' he asked. Curiosity pricked him, implacable.

Will sighed.

'Before I was talking to Abigail and she told me some things—.'

'What kind of things?' Will kept silence. 'Is there something wrong?'

'No, it's not bad. Just stupid and surprising.'

'In that case, I see no reason to hide it.'

'You see—.' Will hesitated. He tried to find the right words and when he couldn't he huffed, frustrated. 'Hey, first of all, I do not want you to take this wrong, okay?' looked at him ashamed. Hannibal could not help noticing the delicious blush that colored his cheeks. 'Abigail is wrong. She's imaging things—.'

'I think you should get to the point.' he suggested.

The FBI agent stopped. Finally he sighed and decided to follow his advice:

'Abigail think you like me.' he confessed, directly. 'She says you're upset because Alana has come to spend Christmas Eve with us because you're jealous of her. Apparently, according to Abigail, she has caught you looking her resentful over dinner. As you will understand, this is absurd—.'

'I cannot find it absurd at all.'

'Abigail does not know what it says—.'

'And if she did?'

'Excuse me!?' he stared at him, dumbfounded.

'Let's take it from the hypothetical case that our daughter is right.' he said, standing and walking to get closer to the young man and watch him face to face. Will had to look up to compensate the difference in height between them. 'Let's go to suppose I haven't been very clever hidding my feelings for you. And let's go to admit the fact that I feel jealous of Alana, because she suddenly has decided redisplay her interest for you, now that your encephalitis have been treated and you are no longer— unstable.'

'Hannibal—.'

'It is just an hypothesis. But if so, what would you think about that?'

'I— I would be surprised.' he admitted, confused. 'I'd feel flattered, of course, but—.'

'Why would you be surprised?'

'Because I wouldn't expect it. It never crossed my mind that you're— well—.' the psychiatrist stared at him expectantly, making him feel overwhelmed. 'I do not know what you like.' he finally admitted. 'I've assumed that you are attract to women because it is the usual thing, though I've never seen you in that circunstances. And I will not ask about it, because the private life of others is not my business—.'

'Calm down, Will, there's no reason to be nervous.'

'I'm not nervous.' he replied, looking irritated.

'Before you have said you'd be flattered.' Hannibal declared after a pause, intrested. ' Why?'

'Well, I think it's obvious. Anyone would be flattered to awaken your interest. You're a man with many qualities, Hannibal: intelligent, educated, refined— you're a top chef.'

'Thank you.'

'Anyone would think you're a good match.'

'And attractive?'

'It is not obvious?' the psychiatrist raised his eyebrows, surprised and pleased at the same time by his answer. Realizing the meaning of his words, Will blushed again. 'I mean— Of course you're an attractive man— although it does not mean I'm attracting to you, I just— you're just—.'

'I'm attractive.'

'Yes.'

'Do you think I am?'

'Sure.'

'And yet, you are not attracted to me.'

'I—.' he stopped and looked at him, frowned. 'Are you playing with me? Because if so, it's not funny.'

'Sorry, I did not mean to be funny. And you're right, I should not play with you. Let me set the record straight.'

He leaned toward him and, before Will could notice, he was kissing him on the lips. The young man's eyes widened. He was petrified, while his friend took his face in his hands and he deepened the kiss with studied slowness.

It was supposed it should have been unpleasant. It was supposed he should have reacted with indignation and rejection, pushing the psychiatrist away of him and perhaps rewarding his audacity with a punch— but he didn't do it. When the kiss ended, he was still surprised and breathless.

'Why did you do that?' He asked. Hannibal stroked his cheek, not letting him go, and he seemed pleasen to see the brightness and dilation in his pupils.

'I wanted to do.' he declared, honestly. 'I have long been wanting. And now, we can leave this as it is, buring it as if nothing had happened and not to ever talk about it or, if you wish, you can give me some sign you want—.'

Will didn't let him finish. He stood on tiptoes to kiss him and placing a hand behind his neck, pulled him close. Hannibal showed more passion this time, knowing he was reciprocated. He put his arms around Will's waist and they were leaning against the wall, under a sprig of mistletoe that decorated the threshold under which they were.

That night, several meters away from the couple, a door closed quietly down the hall and a girl with long black hair went to bed with a smile from ear to ear and a brightness satisfaction in her big blue eyes.

She was excited because his guardians had finally decided to take the plunge. She lay on the bed she shared with Alana and for the first time in a long time, she was really happy.

 **THE END**


End file.
